Riders and Travellers
by DawnSister
Summary: On a routine investigation of a meteor landing, D'rell, rider of green Areth, finds more than he bargains for.  A discovery that could turn his World upside down.
1. Chapter 1

Areth hovered, her wings flapping up and down in slow, steady rhythm. D'rell searched the side of the mountain with his newly acquired binoculars. Areth kept her eye on the weather. The wind had picked up and she was finding it more and more difficult to hold her position. There were dark clouds rising over the mountains to the west; dark and heavy with snow. In a short time, whatever they had seen land there would be covered with snow and they would probably not have another chance to find it until the snows cleared the following spring,

_There's a storm coming! _Areth stated calmly.

They were in no danger, as she could easily take them _between_ when the winds and the snow began to get too bad. D'rell swore. It was just his luck that the most interesting object to fall to Pern from space, since the first network of early warning sensors had been put in place, was about to be covered with the first snow fall of the Southern Peaks winter.

The object had shown up on the screens whilst D'rell took his turn at watch. He had been on his own. The protocol was to alert the rest of the team then investigate. However they had had too many false readings from the newly situated satellites that he wanted to get a look at this one before he woke anyone up. It had been very early in the morning at Landing and no one would have appreciated being woken for a false reading, no matter how charming the person was who disturbed them.

D'rell focused the binoculars a little better. He looked up from the lenses, narrowing his deep blue eyes; then going back to the binoculars. There had been a glint, as if the rising sun had caught and reflected off something metal. The snow began to fall. Large wet flakes, soon the mountainside would be obscured from view as the snow storm took hold. If he could just focus a little more…. Suddenly Areth turned her head towards the mountain side and D'rell's focus was disturbed as the shifting muscles in her neck caused him to lose his balance,

"Shard's sake, Areth, What are you playing at?" he gasped, glad of his riding straps,

_There is someone there! _She sounded shocked and surprised. D'rell forgot his anger at almost being tipped off her back and stared at her then at the mountain,

"What? Do you mean on the mountainside?" He asked out loud and incredulous, shouting against the noise of the wind now. There was no way anyone could have got there before him, no one knew about the object except them. There was also no way they could have landed in the howling wind and now heavily falling snow. He shivered despite his thick Weyr hide jacket. How did Areth know any way, had she seen something? She had been looking in the opposite direction,

_I heard him! _Areth said, a note of wonder in her voice, _He is afraid,_

D'rell, tried to focus his binoculars again but the snow was now too heavy to even see the side of the mountain,

_Can you see him Areth? Can he hear you? _If there was someone there, they would need to get him out of that storm.

_He hears me and he hears you. _She said, astonishment, _How can that be?_

D'rell didn't have time to ponder that revelation,

_Can you find him?_ He asked his dragon. It was a long shot, a big ask for her. She had only just perfected the telekinesis; she had only moved small objects before. To ask her to move a person, was it too much? There was no way they could land on the mountainside now. The snow began to drive into their faces, they would have to leave soon, or they would freeze,

_I can find him. _She told him with such confidence it filled him with pride,

_Can you get him here, on your back, in front of me? Can you see where?_

_I can see. I have told him, he has heard and understood._

Suddenly D'rell was almost knocked from Areth's neck again as, with a blast of icy cold between; a body appeared in front of him on her neck. D'rell's reaction was quick. Lightening reflexes caught hold of the figure that had abruptly appeared. He held on tight to the arms of the new comer,

_I have him Areth, let's go. _The howling wind and snow disappeared, replaced by the utter cold and absence of everything that was _between_.

They emerged, three heart beats later in the warm midday sun above Benden Weyr. D'rell was about to protest that they should have gone back to Landing then realised that he hadn't actually told Areth where they should go. She had taken the initiative and taken them home. Suddenly D'rell's ears were bombarded as their passenger let out a whoop of exhilaration,

"Whooeeee! That was incredible. What a fuckin' trip man. What the hell are we ridin' on? Some sorta creature? I swear to God I love space travel." The passenger twisted about in front of D'rell and the rider was having trouble keeping hold of him. He was easily as big as him, a grown man. What the shell had he been doing on the mountainside? How had he got there in the first place?

_Take us to our weyr, Areth. _He told her. He didn't want to land in the bowl, or training grounds. He wanted to find out what the shell was going on first,

"Hold on!" He shouted to his passenger, "We're going to land, and if you're not used to riding dragon back it can be a bit rough." The passenger, despite his initial elation, lowered his hands and gripped tight to D'rell's arms that were still wrapped around his waist. D'rell felt an irrational rush of fear and anxiety in the pit of his stomach. Unreasonable, since landing in their weyr was a manoeuvre they made almost every day together. He was at a loss to explain why he suddenly felt anxious now,

_It is not your anxiety, it is his, he apologises for causing you any distress. He says he will explain everything when we land._

D'rell certainly hoped so. There was an awful lot of explaining to do.

Areth back winged as she reached the entrance to the weyr. D'rell felt the familiar sadness as they landed, knowing that there would be no one there to greet them. It had been five turns since his partner, D'sar and his dragon Merth had been killed fighting thread. Even after all this time he still felt the loss keenly.

As Areth's claws held onto the edge of the rock and she scrambled into the cave D'rell heard his passenger gasp, then sigh with relief that they were landed and relatively safe. D'rell released his grip on the stranger's waist and hooked his leg over Areth's neck to slide deftly down her shoulder. He turned and looked up at his passenger, getting his first proper look at him. The mystery only deepened as D'rell took in the stranger's appearance. First things first though. He held out his arms to steady the man as he dismounted. The stranger regarded D'rell and his outstretched arms with the greenest eyes D'rell had ever seen. Blond curls stuck out from below a tight fitting hood that was attached to the all in one coverall he was wearing. It looked like the suits that the dragon riders wore when manoeuvring in space, but slightly thinner material, tighter fitting,

"Hook your leg around and slide down, Areth and I won't let you fall." He told the worried looking stranger. Areth turned her head and crooned in encouragement,

_Slide down my foreleg, D'rell will catch you. _Areth told him and the stranger blinked in astonishment looking from D'rell to Areth and back again. D'rell got the distinct impression that the stranger had thought he had been speaking to D'rell during their initial contact and subsequent conversations. The fact that he had been speaking to a dragon seemed to perturb him a little. D'rell had no idea how he knew this though and found himself returning the stranger's troubled stare with one of his own.

The man did as he had been instructed and slid down Areth's extended foreleg. He landed heavily as D'rell tried to break his fall with hands on his hips. At the contact D'rell immediately felt the same sensation of anxiety and fear. His eyes clouded with confusion, because he did not feel afraid, or anxious. He felt curious and was full of questions. He was at a loss to explain the other feelings, except, Areth had said it was the stranger who was feeling these things, how could D'rell feel them too? D'rell broke the contact with the stranger and the confusing emotions disappeared.

For a few moments the two men regarded each other. D'rell with curiosity: the stranger with trepidation. D'rell pulled off his right riding glove and extended his hand in greeting, smiling his most charming smile,

"I'm D'rell." He said simply, his blue eyes sparkling with questions. For a second the stranger just stared at the hand and then, shrugging slightly he took it in his own,

"Tristan." He whispered, and then coughing to clear his throat he said a little louder, "My name is Tristan." His accent was strange, drawling; almost tuneful. The confusing emotions were no longer present and D'rell surmised that this Tristan must be relaxing a little. D'rell pulled off his other glove and approached Areth, patting her shoulder and looking up into her eyes with undisguised affection for his lovely green dragon,

"This is Areth, but I take it you've already been told that." The stranger nodded, turning as D'rell had moved around him to scratch Areth's hide,

"Y-yes, I have." He stared at Areth with wide green eyes, taking in her sheer size. Areth regarded him with her jewel like, multi faceted eyes, gently whirling,

_Nice to meet you Tristan! _She said enigmatically,

"She likes to have her eye ridges scratched!" D'rell explained. Areth obediently moved her head so that both men could reach the bony ridges above her eyes. Tristan gingerly stretched out his hand and scratched the ridge. Areth closed her inner lid in pleasure and Tristan smiled in wonder,

_I itch there,_ she said softly. D'rell reached for a jar and Tristan watched as he smoothed some of the oily contents on the dragon's eye ridge. D'rell offered him the jar,

"Smother her other eye ridge would you?" he asked, smiling, "A dry hide cracks in between." Tristan frowned in confusion,

"What?" he asked, "In between what?" D'rell stopped rubbing oil on Areth's eye ridge and regarded Tristan with more than a little shock. How could he not know what was meant by the term _between? _Tristan looked a little uncomfortable with D'rell's scrutiny so the rider looked away and acted as if he hadn't heard. Tristan had seen his look though.

After he had finished rubbing oil on her ridges Areth looked at D'rell,_ I am cold; I will go to the heights to lie in the sun. Jenth and Cerith are there._

_Okay, darling, enjoy._

With that she took a few steps to the edge of the weyr entrance and launched herself off the edge, spreading her wings to glide. Tristan gave a long low whistle as he stepped across to look over the edge. Then he turned to regard D'rell with those green eyes. D'rell's eyes looked him up and down, his brow furrowing in confusion at his appearance. His clothes were strange, his accent was strange. His presence on the mountainside was strange. What had he said? D'rell remembered with a shock. _I swear to God I love space travel. _What the shells had he meant by that? Tristan seemed to be waiting for him to speak, still looking a little uncomfortable with D'rell's scrutiny. He was also shivering,

"I'll make some Klah, you must be freezing." He said forcing himself to sound calmer than he felt. He turned on his heel and walking through the archway leading to the living quarters of his weyr.

Whoever this Tristan was, he was an enigma. How had he got onto the side of that mountain? How come he didn't know about _between? _ There were isolated holds and smallholdings that might have escaped Harper notice in the North, but here in the South? On a seemingly inaccessible mountainside? It all seemed very unlikely anyway, that after almost forty turns of Thread fall there could be any one living on Pern who did not know at least a basic knowledge of dragons. What ever the answers, however, Tristan had just been rescued from a possible freezing death so questions could wait.

D'rell walked through to his bedroom and fetched a blanket and then went back to his living room/kitchen. Tristan was now standing in the archway between the living room and Areth's weyr. The same expectant look on his face as if he was waiting for the questions that D'rell wanted to ask. D'rell tossed him the blanket and he caught it deftly, the only reaction except a slight raise of his eyebrows,

"Put that around your shoulders, sit by the stove. I'll light it, but it takes a while to warm the place up." D'rell was trying to sound as calm as he could, to make this stranger feel relaxed. He lit his stove, that had been set ready for him just to fire up, probably by Marna, the very efficient and motherly headwoman, and then placed a kettle on to boil.

Tristan shook out the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. He was cold, colder than he had ever been; a combination of the freezing blizzard on the mountain and the utter cold of teleportation, first by the creature called Areth lifting him from the mountainside and then by both of them, on her back to get here. It was taking its toll on his body. The initial adrenaline rush of the rescue and the flight was wearing off. He felt suddenly light headed and dizzy,

"Whoa there, friend," D'rell dove swiftly across the room and caught Tristan as he fell, hooking the man's arm around his shoulder and guiding him to the sofa. He sat Tristan down and swung his legs up so that he was lying across the soft cushions. He pulled the blanket from Tristan's shoulders and laid it over him. He was deathly pale and D'rell felt worried for him, whoever he was and wherever he had come from, he needed help and D'rell was very glad he and Areth had found him. He dreaded to think what might have happened if they hadn't.

Tristan's eyes flickered open and D'rell smiled down at him,

"You alright now?" he asked, "You gave me a bit of a scare just there." He asked Areth to speak to B'son, weyr healer. Tristan, he felt, needed more than just a cup of hot Klah. Tristan tried to sit up but fell back against the arm of the sofa, groaning and holding his head,

"Easy, Tristan," D'rell told him gently as he stood and walked back to the stove, "I'll make some Klah. A hot drink is just what you need to warm you up. I've called for a healer to come."

"A healer?" Tristan asked, his voice still cracking,

"B'son is one of our best," D'rell explained, "He's saved my hide on more than one occasion." He laughed wryly,

"And this Klah?" Tristan drawled, his voice a little less croaky, "It's some sorta drink?"

"It's a hot drink!" D'rell tried to hide the surprise at the question. How could he not know that? He turned to regard Tristan while he waited for the kettle to boil, "You don't know what Klah is?" Tristan looked a little shirty as he answered,

"It's a drink." He drawled,

"But you didn't know that until I told you. The most common drink on the entire planet, and you didn't know what it was." D'rell was coming to some astonishing conclusions as he leaned back against his kitchen bench, his blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he continued, "You didn't know what I meant when I spoke about _between _either. No matter how isolated your life has been there's no way you wouldn't know about those two basic things." His tone was expectant, cautious, "You're not from around here are you, Tristan?" Tristan's green eyes widened, and D'rell could see a little trepidation and even fear reflected there,

"No I'm not." Tristan admitted, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples with his finger and thumb, "Not by a long shot, D'rell." D'rell pushed himself away from the bench and approached Tristan to sit on the easy chair next to him. He leaned forward,

"The object I saw tracked by our warning satellites, that wasn't a meteor, it was you wasn't it?" he asked, hardly able to contain his excitement. Tristan looked up at him and into the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen. He saw the excitement on the young man's face and he saw the honesty in those eyes. He smiled slowly, cautiously,

"I didn't see the read outs but I'd make an educated guess that what you saw was my escape pod crashin' on your planet." Tristan told him, a little relief showing on his face at D'rell's positive reaction,

"Escape pod?" D'rell asked, sitting back in surprise. He'd read about them of course, seen pictures and seen where they had been positioned on the Yoko and Buenos. He'd known the readouts hadn't been wrong. The trajectory of the object had been unnatural, controlled,

"The ship I was travelling on was destroyed," Tristan told him sadly, "A few of us escaped. The pods put you into cryogenic sleep so you can travel until you're picked up by rescue craft. They are programmed to head back to the last port of call of the ship and presumably to rescue."

"How in the name of the first shell did you end up here then?" D'rell asked incredulous. He, of all people, knew of the phenomenal distances involved in travelling through space. Pern was far too distant from any populated part of the charted galaxies to have any casual space traffic passing by. One of the reasons his ancestors had chosen it,

"I have no idea where here actually is but from what I could discover from the read outs on my nav 'puter, before it completely burned out, my pod malfunctioned. Instead of sending me back towards home, it sent me off into deep space. I couldn't work out how long I'd been in cryo because all the 'puter's functions were completely messed up. Then I didn't really have time to try to fix them because that damn storm came and then all I could do was try to shelter from it. That's where you and Areth came in." he frowned as if not really believing what had just happened, "You pulled me off that mountainside. You're a Kinetic? Telekinesis?" he asked,

"That was Areth, not me." D'rell explained, a little shocked that Tristan could think that it was him that had pulled Tristan off the mountain,

"What exactly is she, your Areth?"

"She's a dragon." Tristan's green eyes widened,

"A- a Dragon?" he asked incredulous, "I mean, a real dragon? I swear, if I didn't already know that you didn't dream in cryo I'd think I was dreaming now."

"You're not dreaming, believe me." D'rell chuckled at Tristan's reaction, "And Areth is a dragon in the sense that her kind are named after the mythical creatures that they resemble. They breath fire with a little help from a combustible rock named firestone, but I can assure you they don't eat people, well," he rolled his blue eyes, smiling a half smile, revealing deep dimples in his cheeks, "Not deliberately anyway." That last part was a joke, Tristan realised, and he smiled along, but somehow he didn't feel very reassured.

D'rell stood up and walked back over to the stove. He poured the boiled water into his Klah pot, gave it a stir, then poured it into two cups. He walked back over to Tristan with them, "How are you feeling now?" he asked gently, sitting back down and handing Tristan one of the steaming mugs.

"A little better, thanks." Tristan sat slowly, and took the mug, sniffing the contents gingerly,

"You said your pod was supposed to take you home, Tristan. Where is home?"

"Earth." Tristan said simply. D'rell choked on the mouthful of Klah he had just drank,

"You're from Earth? Really?" his eyes were wide and his mouth fell open,

"Yes." Tristan said, smiling, "Now would you mind telling me where I am now? Because I don't have a clue. You are human, right?" he asked, D'rell nodded, hardly able to believe that he could be speaking to a man from another planet, his ancestor's home planet to boot,

"This is Pern, Tristan. We are in the Rukbat system, Sagittarius sector." D'rell was probably one of only a few on the planet who could actually tell someone this with any confidence and as Tristan stared at him with a mixture of excitement and disbelief he could see that he had understood perfectly, exactly where he was,

"The Sagittarius sector, huh?" Tristan asked in his drawling accent, he wasn't really sure whether he should laugh or cry at the information though,

"You're a very long way from home, Tristan." D'rell told him, voicing the stranger's thoughts exactly, "That must have been some malfunction for your navigation systems to bring you here. Where were you when your ship got into trouble?"

"We were somewhere near the Vega system. I don' know exactly where. I was off duty when the ship ran into trouble." D'rell nodded gently, his blue eyes serious, his manner sympathetic. He searched through his memories of star charts to find the one Tristan was talking of, "I take it you know where that is."

"Yes, I've studied our ancestor's star charts; I have a pretty fair idea of where you've come from. But Tristan," he stared at the man, he couldn't be much older than D'rell, "You know that it would have taken at least fifteen of your years to get here. Have you been in Cryo sleep all that time?" Tristan shook his head,

"I didn't have time to check my chronometer before the storm came. It could have been longer, but I know now it can't have been shorter than that. Fifteen years, huh?" He whistled and ran trembling fingers through his short blond curls, "I cain't hardly believe it." His face had gone pale again and D'rell could see the trembling was not simply because of the cold,

"Tristan, are you alright? B'son is coming, but is there anything we need to do to help you over the effects of cryo sleep?" Where was B'son? He lifted his face and his eyes looked into the distance as he called for Cerith,

_Cerith, is B'son gracing us with his presence at any time soon? I did say it was a kind of emergency._

_We are coming, and B'son says you should keep your shirt on. Why would he think you would have taken it off?_

D'rell chuckled at her literal interpretation of B'son's exclamation of irritation. He was surprised to see Tristan chuckling too, despite his tremors and pallid complexion. D'rell frowned,

"Did you hear that?" he asked surprised, Tristan nodded,

"Both sides." He said. D'rell's eyes widened,

"You heard me too?" he then remembered Areth telling him Tristan had heard him talking to her, "You're telepathic then?"

"I am a trained telepath, empath, telekinetic and micro telekinetic." Tristan told him, his voice becoming quieter as he did so, his face becoming paler if that were possible. He closed his eyes and took some deep breaths,

"Tristan?" D'rell knelt beside him. He took Tristan's mug from him before laying a hand on his arm in concern.

_I'm fine, D'rell, I just feel nauseous, and I don't really want to throw up all over your amazin' boots._

D'rell pulled his hand away from Tristan's arm in shock at hearing another person's voice in his head when before he had only ever heard dragons' voices. The voice had gone and Tristan's eyes remained closed, his face pale. Gingerly D'rell placed his hand back on Tristan's arm,

_Sorry if I shocked you, D'rell. It's easier to speak to you this way when I feel like I'm gonna throw up every time I open my mouth. You don' have to be touchin' me though. You might get more'n you bargained for._

D'rell immediately withdrew his hand,

"You mean like the extra emotions I felt when we rescued you?" D'rell asked, "Areth said they were from you." Tristan nodded, another groan escaping from his lips at the movement,

_You must be very empathic to understand that they weren't your own._

D'rell didn't have time to contemplate this or to ask about it further as they were interrupted by whooshing and scraping noises in the cavernous weyr beyond,

"That'll be B'son." He explained to Tristan who opened his eyes looking suddenly very worried, "Don't be concerned, he's not going to freak out about you being from another planet or anything. Although I can hardly believe it myself." He laughed and ran his fingers through his mess of short dark hair, "Your origins aren't important but your health is." With that he stood and walked to meet B'son and talk with him in the cave before he joined them in the living room.

What he was going to say, he had no clue. He hoped that he had been right to assume that B'son would be fine meeting a visitor from another planet. He knew there were plenty on Pern who would not be.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N I'm sorry I took so long to update this. A combination of the holidays and the fact that I'm juggling other stories on . Feel free to read them as well I have the same pen name there. I'd love a review, but just the fact that people are reading is great. Thanks, DS_

"B'son." D'rell greeted the fellow green rider and weyr healer warmly with a hug that B'son returned with equal warmth.

"D'rell, dearest, when did you get back to the Weyr? Should I have an extra place set for dinner, you are going to join us?" He held D'rell by the shoulders. D'rell grimaced and B'son groaned. He could not remember the last time D'rell had taken him and his partner, K'dan, up on their offer of dinner. The lad; he corrected himself; the man didn't eat enough and he worked too hard. He gave D'rell an admonishing look,

"Don't look at me like that, B'son. I have an excuse." He turned to B'son's green dragon and the tiny green firelizard curled up on the top of the Dragon's head and nodded, "Cerith, Roxi." He greeted them affectionately. Cerith ducked her head, crooning fondly at D'rell. Roxi clicked and warbled at him, jumping onto D'rell's shoulder and curling her tail around his neck. B'son clicked his tongue and shook his head,

"Hussy!" he muttered smiling, and D'rell grinned,

"Her or me?" he asked; his smile impish and playful, showing off his dimples as he caressed the firelizard's eye ridges. B'son looked him up and down, pursing his lips,

"I could hardly tar you with that brush, D'rell." He brushed a strand of the taller rider's dark hair from his face with tender affection, "You, my darling, are practically a hermit; a very charming hermit; but a hermit nonetheless." D'rell rolled his eyes as B'son gave him another examining, head to toe look, and frowned, running his fingers through his own blond curls, "And also a surprisingly healthy hermit." He observed, "What's so pressing that you would ask me to make a personal call? You look as healthy as a Wherry buck, except infinitely better looking."

D'rell chuckled, used to B'son's flirting, which was as much a part of the flamboyant weyr healer, as his hair or his eyes, "I'm not the reason you are here, B'son. There's someone inside that needs your healing skills far more than me." B'son's blue eyes widened with interest and curiosity and turned to go through the thick curtain that covered the entrance to D'rell's living quarters. D'rell stopped him with a hand on his arm, "Before you see him though, there are some things you need to know."

"Things?" B'son asked, intrigued, "What things?"

D'rell laughed, a small, nervous laugh and ran his fingers through his hair. He glanced at the curtained opening and then back at B'son. He gently extracted the clinging firelizard from his neck and deposited her back onto Cerith's head, asking Cerith politely to keep Roxi away from the visitor in the living room because he was pretty certain that Tristan was not up to meeting excitable firelizards yet. He turned to face B'son who was regarding him curiously. He didn't have a clue where to start,

"I was on duty at Landing. There were some unusual readings from one of our new satellites so Areth and I went to investigate. I expected to find a meteor strike of some sort. We actually found far more than that."

"What does this have to do with a man in your quarters needing help?" B'son sounded a little exasperated,

"If you'll listen, I'm getting to that part." D'rell continued, with equal exasperation, "The coordinates pointed us towards the side of a mountain in the Southern range. When we got to the location we didn't find a meteor, we found a man."

"What?" B'son spluttered,

"A man," D'rell continued, "on an inaccessible mountainside; in a snowstorm. We couldn't land because of the weather. Areth pulled him off the cliff onto her back and we brought him here." D'rell was beginning to sound a little over excited and B'son wondered if he was delusional, "I'm not delusional, B'son, this is true." He didn't notice the shock on B'son's face that D'rell had apparently heard his thoughts, "This man, B'son, he isn't from here. It wasn't a meteor that the satellites were tracking, it was something else, manmade. He's not from Pern, B'son. He came here in an escape pod and has been in cryogenic sleep for at least fifteen years, er Turns."

B'son was staring at D'rell now, with his mouth open and his blue eyes wide. What D'rell had just told him couldn't be true, could it? Curiosity took over from disbelief though,

"You say he's been in cryogenic sleep?" B'son asked, "For a long time?" D'rell nodded. He frowned, trying to remember what he had read about the cryogenic process, which wasn't much. D'rell probably knew more, "Alright mister photographic memory, what do you know about Cryogenic sleep, because I don't know a half shell about it."

"Medical stuff is not my strong point, B'son, you know that." D'rell screwed his face up in disgust, "That's always been your area." B'son clicked his tongue,

"Honestly, what's the use of having a photographic memory without using it for something useful?"

"I do use it for something useful." D'rell said indignantly. B'son brushed his cheek with his fingers,

"I know you do. And my brother loved you for it." D'rell smiled sadly at the reference to their connection to the man D'rell had shared this Weyr with for four Turns. B'son had been such a support after D'sar had been killed, even though he was crippled with grief himself at losing his twin brother. D'rell turned his head to glance through the curtain that separated the weyr from his living quarters and abruptly changed the subject before anyone got too emotional,

"Let's get back to the here and now, eh?" he said with a sigh, "I think our visitor has been asleep for about fifteen Turns and he's lying on my couch feeling very weak and nauseous. He almost passed out, but I'm not sure whether this was because of the cold or the transfer between or the stress of everything put together."

"Stress and shock I can treat," B'son said, thoughtfully, suddenly all business like, "Cryogenic withdrawal I will have to look up. Let's see this visitor of yours then." He laid his hand on D'rell's arm and indicated he should precede him.

B'son followed D'rell into the small but cosy living room. As always he felt the familiar wave of sadness that his brother was not there to greet him. The weyr still held poignant memories and did not look very much different to the way it had looked when D'sar had lived there. D'rell had not made any changes when he had moved in with D'sar and hadn't made many changes since his death. Everything was so unchanged that every time he came here B'son half expected to see his twin appear from one of the doorways leading off from the main room.

As he glanced around with a heavy sigh the only difference he noticed was that there was, indeed, a strange man with a shock of blond hair, lying across the cushions of the comfortable sofa. This in itself was a change, since D'rell, as he had pointed out to the young rider, was practically a hermit. Keeping himself to himself and rarely having any guests in his weyr apart from B'son and his partner K'dan.

D'rell knelt down beside the prone figure and laid his hand gently on the man's arm. The man's eyes flickered open and his hand moved to his forehead. He was very pale and swallowed as if trying to keep from throwing up. B'son also watched D'rell closely, there was a look on the young rider's face that B'son had not seen for a long time. There was a light in his eyes and a colour to his cheeks that had been missing for too long. B'son walked around the sofa when he realised that D'rell was beckoning him to join them,

"Tristan, this is B'son, one of our Weyr Healers, he's also a good friend and I would trust him with my life." B'son raised his eyebrows and felt very flattered by such a vote of confidence. He blew air through his pursed lips,

"I would save the praise for after I have treated your guest." He said modestly, but D'rell could see the sparkle in his friend's eyes, "Hello, Tristan, it's nice to meet you. I believe a welcome to Pern is in order." B'son's tone was bright, his manner casual, but D'rell could see the healer's eyes moving over Tristan's face and body giving a good once over; taking in everything. He crouched down to get a better look at Tristan's pale face, placing a hand on his shoulder for reassurance. The stranger had opened his eyes and was regarding B'son with trepidation. When D'rell had spoken he appeared to relax a little, though B'son could see he was in pain. He could feel he was in pain, he could almost feel the nausea wash over him. B'son gasped and stood, taking a step back, breaking the contact. He stared at the stranger and then at D'rell, who was regarding him with a knowing look,

"He's telepathic, did I mention?" he asked seriously, but his eyes and dimples giving away his amusement at B'son's reaction,

_I'm sorry. D'rell, tell him I'm sorry._ Tristan looked stricken that he had frightened B'son. D'rell stared at him,

"You can't tell him yourself?" he asked out loud,

_He doesn't hear me _

"Why? How?" D'rell was a little disconcerted,

_No physical contact. _Tristan explained, _No connection _

D'rell understood though it was still all very baffling. Not as baffling as it was for B'son however, hearing a one sided conversation. He gave D'rell and Tristan a quizzical look,

"You have to make a connection with him B'son. He can speak out loud but for some reason it's causing him pain. He can speak in your head like our dragons do but you have to touch him to make the connection work. Like completing a circuit." He looked at Tristan who was smiling and nodding slowly, the movement causing him to close his eyes again and swallow against the rising nausea.

B'son watched them both. They had obviously just had a conversation, but he had only heard D'rell's side since he had spoken out loud. It was indeed as if someone was talking to a dragon. What had he said about a connection? He reached out his hand and gingerly laid it onto the man's arm. Tristan's green eyes widened and met B'son's blue ones, equally as wide,

_I'm very pleased to meet you, B'son. Thank you for your welcome._

B'son's mouth fell open. D'rell had described it accurately, it was like hearing a dragon, except it was a man, how very strange,

"Well I never," B'son stated, in an understated way, "Men who can talk like dragons. Where exactly are you from, Tristan?"

_Earth. _The reply caused the same reaction in B'son as it had in D'rell. Their ancestors had come from Earth, this man was their kin,

"You're a long way from home, Tristan. Let's see if we can do something about this nausea and pain." B'son hesitated, "Do you mind if I take your pulse? Do you have any injuries Tristan? Are you in pain?" B'son continued to ask questions and Tristan answered them, mostly with nods or shakes but also telepathically.

The examination went on, with B'son being as thorough and professional as always in situations like this. Throughout, D'rell hovered at one end of the sofa. Concern etched on his handsome face, and without knowing it, projecting calming thoughts towards Tristan,

_You're safe here, don't worry, we won't hurt you._

Tristan heard these thoughts and they calmed him, helped him to control the waves of fear and uncertainty before they were projected towards B'son as he had projected them onto D'rell when they had first met. He felt very fortunate indeed that he had been stranded on this particular planet, and had been rescued by this particular person and his dragon.

As B'son finished his examination and shared his conclusions,

"You need to rest, Tristan. Rest and eat, because the faintness is most likely due to hunger. That is the best advice I can give you." B'son chuckled ironically, "I doubt that conclusion comes as any surprise to you. I'm going to read up on Cryogenic withdrawal. But I would expect it to give the same advice. Your muscles are probably going to be pretty sore over the next few weeks. They've been inactive for a long time. There are geo thermally heated pools throughout the Weyr. You are very fortunate that D'rell just happens to have one along the corridor. I suggest you make use of it when the nausea has passed. Which I am certain it will once you've eaten. And I suggest, for the next few days at least, that you don't venture very far from here." With this last statement he glanced over at D'rell, a mixture of apology and anxiety on his face.

D'rell's eyes widened as he recognised B'son's concern. He quickly nodded though,

"Of course he can stay here." He turned to Tristan, "You are welcome to stay here, for as long as you need."

B'son stepped closer to D'rell and placed a hand gently on the young man's arm,

"Are you sure, D'rell?" he asked softly, "I can call for my team to come and we can transfer him to the Healer wing."

A jolt of fear knotted his stomach and D'rell glanced quickly at Tristan who he was certain the fear had come from.

_You are safe with us Tristan _Areth's voice assured him, suddenly from her perch on the fire heights and he appeared to visibly relax,

"He'll be fine here, really, I'm fine with it." D'rell stated, shaking his head at B'son's offer. B'son regarded his friend, giving Tristan a suspicious sideways glance.

Tristan was shocked to feel distrust directed at him and a strong sense of protectiveness towards D'rell. Seeing the way the two interacted made him think that they were more than just friends. Now, after feeling the strong emotions from B'son, he was certain of it. He watched as B'son moved D'rell away from the sofa, a hand placed intimately on the small of his back, and began speaking to him in a hushed whisper,

"You might be alright with this but I don't want you here on your own with him. We have to tell the Weyrleaders about him anyway, and the Master Harper, shells the whole of Pern needs to be told about him. I think someone else should be here with you though."

"I won't be alone, Areth will be here." D'rell protested, "And don't you think we should let him recover from this Cryo thing before we put him on show to the rest of the planet? Tell the Weyr Leaders and The Master Harper yes, but let's keep his arrival here quiet until he is strong enough to cope with the curiosity he will attract."

"You've only just met the man yet you are willing to play his protector?"

"I saved his life, B'son, a person feels a little responsibility towards someone in that situation. Don't forget, he's only just met us too. I can't pass him from pillar to post. He's scared enough as it is."

"You can't blame me for feeling just a little trepidation, D'rell. We know nothing about him."

"And he knows nothing about us. Is this your feelings about him, or is it your feelings about me?"

"Do you blame me for wanting to protect you, D'rell, really?"

D'rell sighed. B'son was always there for him, always ready to offer a helping hand, good advice and a shoulder to cry on, sometimes at the expense of his own grief and pain. He placed his hands on the older man's shoulders and looked into his blue eyes. The man's features were so different from his twin brother's but sometimes, when D'rell looked really closely he could see something of D'sar in B'son's eyes,

"I don't say this often enough, B'son, but I am grateful, for everything you do for me. You're always there for me, thank you." His eyes burned with tears as he saw B'son's fill too, "This time though, you have to trust my judgement. There's something about him that makes me want to trust him. Areth feels it too and you know how dragons are. When you go I'll ask her to come back here and we'll watch over him together. If it makes you feel better I'll sleep with her tonight."

B'son sighed and nodded his head, resigned to letting D'rell have his own way,

"I'm going straight to F'lar, though, to tell him what has happened." D'rell nodded in acknowledgement, "You'll probably get a visit from him and Lessa. Perhaps Tristan should move to your spare room; it might be a bit quieter for him."

D'rell nodded and glanced back at Tristan who had his eyes closed. He had a feeling, however, that he had heard every word of his and B'son's conversation. As he looked, Tristan's mouth turned up in a small, half smile,

_I didn't mean to eaves drop, D'rell, I'm sorry_

_Don't worry about it. _D'rell told him. Tristan opened his eyes wide and D'rell regarded him curiously. He did not realise that he hadn't said the phrase out loud.

B'son bid good bye to Tristan and promised he would return the next day. D'rell walked him back to where Cerith was curled waiting patiently for him.

The green dragon had done as D'rell had asked and kept Roxi away from the newcomer. When the two riders returned she flitted about them both excitedly. B'son batted his hands to ward her off,

"Roxi, calm down, you overexcited little whelp." He said in frustration. She was an invaluable asset when executing his weyr healing duties but any other times she was a complete nuisance,

"B'son, do you think Roxi will take a message to Landing for me?" D'rell asked thoughtfully,

"I'm sure she would, why?" B'son replied, happy to get her out of his hair while he went to talk to F'lar,

"I just realised I'm still supposed to be on duty. I think I might be in a bit of trouble if I don't get word to someone to take over from me."

"Shards, D'rell, the entire planet might have imploded without you there to watch those infernal computer screens and interpret the gibberish that they spout day and night." B'son slapped his hand to his forehead sarcastically. D'rell punched him playfully,

"Shut up." he laughed. He knew full well that B'son had a very healthy respect for what he did. He also knew he had a better reason than many to want to monitor the skies for meteors and other possible objects entering Pern's atmosphere.

Roxi was persuaded to go to Landing, D'rell giving her a perfect visualisation of the monitoring room and of the cots where his colleagues would still be sleeping, an advantage of having a photographic memory. His colleagues probably didn't even know he wasn't there. He felt guilty that he had left his post, but he knew they would forgive him when they heard what he had found.

B'son and Cerith left to go speak to the Weyr Leaders and D'rell was left on his own. Areth agreed to come back, if a little reluctantly because the sun was warm. D'rell promised her trips to their little secret Southern cove in the near future and she was content. D'rell turned to walk back into the living quarters of his weyr and to his new roommate.

He sighed, he didn't have any problem at all about Tristan staying with him. He was a little excited about it. There was one problem though, he would have to give Tristan something to eat before the inevitable visit from the Weyr Leaders and Master Harper; but just what the shells did he give a visitor from another planet to eat?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N I am very sorry that this update has taken so long. I discovered that I needed to do some more thinking about this story than I originally thought. I have a ton of stuff written for D'rell's back story, which I intend to post as a prequel to this. Tristan however, had nothing written about him. So I had to take a break and think a bit about his back story. I cannot invent a character without a back story and in a universe as intricate and detailed as Anne McCaffrey's Pern, depth of character is very important.

Therefore, here is a little titbit of info on how Tristan came to be travelling through the galaxy in a cryogenic escape pod which includes a little bit of info on his background and back story too. This is in the form of a flashback/dream and the story will continue straight after.

Sorry if anyone thought I had abandoned the story, because I haven't I promise.

I don't own Pern and its original characters. The main characters in this story are my own invention; the rest I have borrowed from the esteemed and much missed Anne McCaffrey,

DS

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**Somewhere in the vicinity of the Vega system, Pern date unknown as yet.**

"_This is the Captain speaking. We have collided with an unknown object and have sustained extensive damage to the ship. Engineering have shut down all non essential operations but there is still not enough power for life support with the ship at full capacity. Would all non essential personnel and passengers please report to the cryo and escape pod bays in order to abandon ship? I repeat: All non essential personnel report to the cryo centre and escape pod bays."_

_**Panic: sheer blind panic. **_

_Passengers running for escape pods; Crew rushing to get to their posts._

_**Fear: cold wet fear**._

_Cryogenic drugs administered; evacuees handed survival packs and packed into torpedo shaped escape pods._

_**Despair: deathly, gut wrenching despair.**_

_Tristan cradled his head in his hands as he scrunched his body into a tight ball. All non essential operations the Captain had said in her announcement; apparently that included the telepathic dampening field set up around his quarters and without warning it had been switched off. _

_If he'd had warning then he might have been able to prepare himself for the wall of extreme emotion that hit him with the full strength of a stampeding bull; without warning every emotion felt by every single passenger and crew on the stricken ship crippled him and filled him with such pain he was completely overwhelmed and overloaded,_

"_Tristan, you have to get to an escape pod now," a voice called from somewhere beyond the mental noise._

_Dumbly Tristan looked up, his eyes unfocused; his mind slowly going into shock under the mental bombardment,_

"_Tristan!" the voice called louder and he realised he was being shaken, man handled, lifted. His eyes focused for a second on the face; one of his few friends amongst the crew; his closest friend in fact; Cerise, a Petty Officer. She alone had noticed he had not yet reported for cryo prep and been issued a pod number,_

"_Can't think, Cerise…Captain didn't warn me." Tristan managed to gasp. Cerise had no idea how he must feel right now, but she understood what he meant. _

_That damn Captain, she had always been such a damn bitch towards Tristan and this was the final insult. To switch off his telepathic dampening field without warning him first, she must have known what it would do to the sensitive Telepath and Ship's Counsellor, but she had done it anyway,_

"_Tristan get on your feet, we have to get you to a pod." Cerise urged, her dark eyes full of concern and fear that he would be too late. The captain would soon take the escape pods off line too. _

_Cerise pulled the tall blond counsellor to his feet and dragged him along towards Cryo prep. Tristan followed blindly, unable, still, to focus properly. He was beginning to get a little more control though,_

"_Stop." He shouted suddenly, "I need my wrist band, where's my psych stone?"_

"_You can't take that with you, Tristan. Everything will be placed in storage for you until you reach safety, if the ship makes it." Tristan felt a spike of fear from her as she said this, which, ironically, because of her physical contact, and their emotional bond as close friends, helped him focus far better than any of his exercises could in such a situation._

_He focused on Cerise, holding onto her and concentrating. His hands gripped her arms convulsively and she cried out in alarm as his fingers dug into her flesh,_

_**~Cerise, I'm sorry, I need to focus, everyone's emotions are too much for me all at once I need to focus on just one person. Can I use you?~**_

_Cerise gasped at the sensation of hearing her friend's voice inside her head, for although she knew he was a telepath he had never used his skills on her or any of the other members of the crew. In fact very few of the crew were privy to the knowledge that Tristan was a telepath. Cerise had always felt honoured to have been trusted with that information for Tristan had told her himself. _

_His kind were always regarded with suspicion and often fear and prejudice. Cerise had been curious to get to know him and dispel some of the prejudices she had been fed about telepaths as a child. They had become friends; more than friends on occasion; so she was willing to help him in anyway she could in order to get him to a cryo pod and to safety._

_After only a few moments Cerise felt Tristan's grip relax on her arms and saw his face break into a relieved smile,_

_**~Thank you, Cerise, ~** his voice echoed softly in her head,_

_**~Y-you're welcome**, ~ then she gasped as she realised she had answered him in the same way. His green eyes opened wide and his smile broadened,_

"_Wow, you're a natural, Cerise." He said out loud, surprised at her ability and willingness to answer him telepathically. She blushed, then remembered the urgency of the situation and pulled him up to his feet once more,_

"_Cryo pods, now." She commanded, dragging him by the front of his shirt. He resisted,_

"_My psych stone, Cerise. I can't leave without it." He pulled away from her but to her surprise did not run off towards his quarters; instead he stood and held out his hand. Closing his eyes in concentration the object he spoke of suddenly appeared in his fingers and Cerise watched, stunned as he strapped the intricately carved leather strap to his wrist. She had known he could do things like this but had never seen him do it. She had been curious but had never asked him to show her for want of making his abilities into a parlour show,_

"_This is the only thing that will stop me goin' mad if we land anywhere without telepathic dampeners." He explained with a quick wink. She blushed again and then regained her composure to continue pulling him in the direction of the Cryo pods._

_The ship gave a heavy lurch and they were thrown against the wall. Cerise gave a cry as she caught her arm against some out cropping pipes. Tristan pulled her upright and touched the injured area gently,_

"_That'll heal in Cryo in no time." He assured her. Again he felt that spike of fear as she pushed him into the Cryo prep area of the med rooms. He turned to regard her with shock, partly because the link with her mind had not broken but mostly because he realised what that spike of fear meant, "You're not going into Cryo?" he asked and she shook her head, biting her lip,_

"_I'm classed as Command Crew, Tristan; I have to stay with the ship." She said,_

"_Cerise." Tristan breathed, and in that one word she felt all the pain and regret and loss and sadness that their separation would bring him; all the friendship and joy he had felt since they had become friends and sometimes lovers. Cerise felt tears burn her eyes as he pulled her to him and kissed her good bye: a soft, tender kiss to her lips. His green eyes met her dark brown ones and she knew then that she would never hear anyone else ever say her name the way he had just said it._

_She held him tightly, her fingers threading through his hair as she whispered softly,_

"_Be safe for me Tristan." His arms tightened around her as his breath caught in his throat, "And wherever you end up, think of me, because I'll never forget you, never."_

"_Nor I you, Cerise." Tristan held her at arms length, knowing that this was a good bye with the finality of a death. The ship was crippled; the passengers evacuated. Wherever and whatever happened to them both there was one thing that was certain: they would probably never see each other again._

_Cerise gave Tristan one more commanding push and he walked through to Cryo prep to be readied for the cryogenic sleep pod that would carry him away from the crippled ship and away from one of the only friends he had ever had._

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**Pern: 35th Turn, Ninth Pass**

D'rell whistled softly as he set out breakfast on his small table that he used as a dining table, desk and general storage of things that didn't have a home in his weyr. He pushed aside some papers and gathered some others up to move to another surface that was equally as cluttered. He spent his time equally between his duties at the Weyr and Landing but never spent enough time at either place to be able to tidy up. The women in the lower caverns would come and clean for him but they never touched his things, especially his work. So every surface in his small living room was covered in papers, skins, reference sheets, and equipment. He knew where everything was, somewhat, but he had never been the tidiest of people.

He rubbed at his shoulders with a groan as he finished setting out breakfast. He had woken with a terrible crick in his neck having spent the night, as he had promised B'son, lying with Areth in her weyr, while Tristan had spent his first night on Pern sleeping in D'rell's bed. D'rell had wrapped himself up in blankets and had been warm, but it hadn't been the most comfortable of spots despite Areth's front legs providing a pillow.

Usually when they slept close to each other it was in one of the Southern weyrs that had a small mattress for him and a hollow for Areth; or it was in the soft warm sands of his secret swimming cove; he was not used to spending the night on the hard rock floor of the carved out cave that was their weyr at Benden.

He sighed as he thought of his cove. He and Areth were long overdue a visit there. D'sar, his former partner had discovered it and had laid a claim for them for after fall. He and D'rell had planned to live there when thread fall ended. The claim still belonged to D'rell according to common-law rules set out by the original colonists.

He visited it every once in a while to give him and Areth a break from the stresses of riding thread falls and the work he did at Landing. He didn't go as often as Areth would have liked though, since she loved swimming in the warm sheltered waters of the small cove and playing with the dolphins that always appeared when they were there. She loved basking in the warm sun too.

D'rell enjoyed the peace and quiet but the memories of who he could be sharing the wonderful scenery with could still be painful at times and he would come back to the weyr feeling more stressed than when he had left, more often than not. He often wished he had Areth's dragon mind that could so easily forget her bond with D'sar's brown dragon, Merth. He was sure she missed her weyr mate of six turns but she, like all dragons did not feel or remember the loss as keenly as her human rider did.

D'rell was roused from his thoughts by a chittering flash of green that landed on the table in front of him. Despite her delicate features, Roxi was being quite a klutz as she upset cups and stepped on plates,

"Roxi, you're a sharding menace." D'rell exclaimed. Roxi had returned from her errand to Landing the night before with a message for D'rell from his colleagues there. She had also brought a message from B'son too saying he had asked his errant little firelizard to keep an extra watch over their visitor.

Tristan had indeed been hungry the night before, as B'son had suggested and D'rell had sent for food. After they had eaten D'rell had helped Tristan into bed where he had fallen asleep almost immediately.

D'rell had received a visit from the Weyr Leaders and the Master Harper, soon after. He had told them his side of the story: discovering Tristan on the mountainside and the decision to bring him to the weyr. They had promised to come back the next day to meet the mysterious visitor when he was better rested.

Roxi continued to flit about the table and D'rell. He flapped his hands at her to get her out of his face,

"Why aren't you watching over our visitor, Roxi, you little pest?" he asked her. He realised too late that she was trying to tell him something,

"Your little spy ain't watchin' me because I'm awake now." D'rell turned to see Tristan standing at the curtained doorway to the bedroom.

His eyes bore an amused glint at D'rell's embarrassed denial that Roxi was in any way a spy. Tristan held out his arm to the tiny, miniature dragon and Roxi flew to him without hesitation. D'rell let out a low whistle,

"You're honoured." He exclaimed, "She does not usually trust so willingly." Tristan smiled, entranced by the beautiful little creature,

"She's exquisite." He said, his voice almost a whisper, "what's her name?"

D'rell regarded Tristan, his head cocked to one side. Considering Tristan's ability to communicate telepathically he was surprised he hadn't asked Roxi himself,

"Can't you ask her that yourself?" he asked frowning. Tristan shook his head,

"I tried, but she communicates in images and the image she uses for her name is unique to her. I can't interpret it." D'rell frowned again, trying to understand,

"Her name is Roxi, she's a firelizard." He explained. Tristan gave him a searching look and then smiled,

"Now I see it I understand it." He said cryptically,

"Do you mean you saw it in my head?" D'rell asked; a little shocked. Tristan's eyes widened,

"No." he said, adamantly, "I would never intrude like that," he seemed shocked that D'rell would even think he had, "I meant that I saw the image she thought of when you said her name." D'rell nodded understanding a little better,

"Roxi, you should go back to B'son now." He said softly to the green beauty, "He'll be wondering what's happening." Roxi lifted from Tristan's arm and flew over to D'rell's shoulder to nuzzle his neck before lifting again on her tiny gossamer wings and disappearing. Tristan gave a cry of surprise and regarded D'rell with wide eyes,

"She teleported?" he asked. D'rell nodded,

"We call it going _between,_ but yes, the correct term is teleport." Tristan nodded in approval,

"Handy skill, teleportation." He mused. D'rell chuckled,

"You have no idea." He laughed, but Tristan gave him a look that quite clearly said he did. D'rell tried to interpret the look but couldn't.

His interplanetary guest looked tired, but much less pale than he had the night before. He also looked a little confused as he ran his fingers through his thick blond curls,

"I can't actually remember how I got into bed last night." He said, his green eyes clouding slightly,

"I helped you." D'rell explained, "You were still a little sore and stiff; and surprisingly very tired for someone who has been asleep for at least fifteen turns."

"Cryo is a very different kind of sleep, D'rell." Tristan explained, "It's not a natural state. There's no dreamin' or anything like that. I didn't feel like I'd been asleep that long. I felt like I'd been run over by a dumper truck."

"I'll take your word for it, since I have no idea what a dumper truck is." D'rell chuckled, "Did you sleep alright last night? How do you feel now?"

"Well," Tristan began as he moved closer to the small table and sitting with an audible groan, "Just about every muscle in my body aches. My head feels like it's sittin' in a metal box that someone's hittin' with a stick and my eyes have so much sand in them if I had a spade I could make a sandcastle; but apart from that, I feel fine." He finished with an impish grin that made D'rell chuckle,

"You know there's always the geo thermally heated pool at the other end of the corridor?" D'rell reminded him, pointing in the direction of the pool room, "B'son says it would be a good idea for you to take some hot baths. It would help to ease your stiff muscles."

"I saw the bathroom, jus' now 'cos I got a little lost." He smiled an embarrassed smile and ran his fingers through his hair again, "Considerin' my situation I think that's probably an understatement!" again D'rell chuckled,

"I would say you got more than a little lost Tristan." He said, "one point six quadrillion kilometres lost to be exact."

Tristan stared at him, his mouth open, "You pick that number out of the air?"

"No, that is roughly the distance from Earth to here. That's how I could work out how long it would take you to get here, presuming you were travelling at a constant speed, and there were no diversions for obstacles and no gravitational shifts that could have affected your trajectory and based on the information we have on how long it took our ancestors, the original colonists to get here."

Tristan continued to stare at him open mouthed. Astounded that the man could hold so much information in his head,

"You must have a real head for numbers to remember those equations." Tristan complimented, his tone was sad though,

"I've spent a lot of time studying that's all." D'rell told him, avoiding Tristan's sad gaze and feeling angry with himself. The man didn't really need to know how far he was from home and from any hope of rescue. D'rell mentally kicked himself for even opening his mouth. The man must be going out of his head thinking about his situation and what he had left behind. Suddenly he remembered that Tristan had somehow heard his thoughts the night before, when he had been thinking directly about him. He regarded the visitor carefully. He gave no indication of having heard what D'rell had thought this time though.

Instead Tristan was looking down at his clothes, which were some that D'rell had put out for him to wear, "I presume these were for me." He said gently fingering the soft, woven fabric of the belted tunic and comfortable trousers he was wearing,

D'rell gave him an approving look, nodding and smiling at how good he looked in the clothes. He had judged rightly that Tristan was roughly the same size as he was,

"Your own clothes were a little too obviously unPernish, Tristan." D'rell explained, "I thought you might feel more comfortable in some of mine." Tristan nodded in thanks,

"Anything to not have to walk around in that Cryo suit." He said gratefully, "But I gotta admit, these clothes are very fine. Something a little plainer would have been just as good." He fingered the detailed embroidery around the neckline of the tunic and the professionally carved leather belt.

D'rell regarded him with a quizzical look,

"They are ordinary clothes." He said, "I didn't think you'd want to be walking about in gather finery."

"In what?" Tristan asked in confusion at the unfamiliar term. D'rell chuckled,

"Gather finery. Your best clothes for a Gather, which is the closest you get to having any fun around here, although it isn't too bad most nights around the main hearth if you're looking for good company and singing." D'rell explained to him,

"Singing?" Tristan's face lit up with interest,

"We do a lot of that here." D'rell told him,

"But that ain't all that you do." D'rell shook his head, he realised that the questioning could go on indefinitely because Tristan knew nothing about Pern and its people and society. He indicated that Tristan should help himself to the food set out at the table,

"Eat, please." He said, "I realise that you must have a great many questions about everything, and I don't know if I'm really the one to answer them all. I'll do my best though, until the Weyr Leaders and Master Harper come."

"Master Harper?" Tristan asked, curious, as he took a good look at all the food available before reverently touching the soft, freshly baked and still warm loaf of bread that sat in the centre of the table,

"He is the person who is in charge of the Harper Craft Hall. All Craft Masters are important people, but the Master Harper is the best person to talk to about Pern's history and to answer any questions you have about Pern in general." Tristan reluctantly drew his eyes away from the bread and fresh fruit and looked at D'rell with intense green eyes,

"What exactly does a Harper do?" he asked,

"Harpers are our teachers. They're also keepers of archives and records and they gather and distribute information; first and foremost though they are musicians and teachers. That is how we are taught our lessons when we are young, through music and song. We have many other crafts too. Children are chosen for a craft depending on their abilities and skills and family affiliation. They become apprentices then journeyman then Masters if they're good enough."

"Do you have to be an apprentice to become a dragon rider?" Tristan asked. D'rell laughed,

"No, potential Dragonriders are Searched differently." D'rell explained although with every explanation he could see that Tristan had many more questions

Tristan still had not eaten anything yet though D'rell could see him eyeing the food hungrily,

"Eat; don't wait for me to finish what I'm saying." D'rell urged him, "I'll answer questions while you eat. Sometimes I talk too much." He confessed, "Due to a childhood where I hardly spoke at all. D'sar used to say I was making up for lost time." Tristan looked up sharply,

"D'sar?" he asked, surprisingly gently.

D'rell bit his lip. Why did he have to go and mention his partner of six turns? He would have to answer the question now and explain why D'sar wasn't there and how he had died. D'rell frowned, he didn't want to have to explain to this visitor why he was alone and why talking about D'sar caused him so much pain. To his embarrassment he felt tears burning in his eyes and he looked away,

"You don't have to tell me anything, D'rell." Tristan told him gently and something in his tone made D'rell feel calmer somehow, "Sometimes I'm too nosy for my own good. I'm sorry if my question caused you pain." D'rell could see by his expression that this strange man had sensed some of his pain, perhaps the same way that he had sensed Tristan's anxiety the night before,

"It's alright, you weren't to know." he assured Tristan, "I shouldn't have mentioned him." D'rell wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked back at Tristan, "D'sar was my partner. We lived here in this weyr for six turns, our dragons were weyr mates. D'sar and Merth died fighting Thread two turns ago."

"That's awful." Tristan said softly, hanging his head, "Thread?" D'rell realised then just what a mammoth task telling Tristan about Pern actually was and although he didn't mind answering any of the visitor's questions he also realised the man was not going to eat until he stopped talking,

"No more questions until you've eaten." He said firmly and Tristan smiled a half smile. D'rell took up the fresh loaf of bread and tore off a chunk, handing it to Tristan.

Tristan took the offered piece and sniffed it gently,

"Oh my." He sighed, "It's still warm."

"Of course it is, it was baked this morning." D'rell explained, as if this should be understood. He watched as Tristan placed a piece into his mouth and tasted it with another sigh, closing his eyes in undisguised ecstasy. D'rell chuckled, "You act as if you have never tasted fresh bread before." He laughed,

"Well I haven't." Tristan's retort surprised D'rell,

"What? Never?" he asked incredulous,

"Never." Tristan said with regret, "Where I come from you're lucky to get anything that isn't processed, replicated crap. It's nutritious but tasteless and definitely not home baked from scratch, even planet side the food was over processed and basic."

"You mean that there isn't any fresh food?" D'rell wondered, staring at the fruits that had most probably only been picked fresh the day before,

"There is fresh food for those that can afford it, and the processed stuff was fresh at some point before it got messed around with to make it go further. You must get paid a pretty penny as a Dragonrider to be able to afford all this." D'rell laughed again, this time ironically,

"I don't get paid anything, Tristan." He explained to his now open mouthed guest, "To be a Dragonrider is an honour. To be chosen is an honour and to share a bond with one of those amazing creatures is an honour and a pleasure. It is also a very great responsibility and extremely dangerous; this is understood throughout Pern. I don't get paid, but everything I need is provided for me. The Weyrs are run like this. The rest of Pern provides for us."

"And what exactly do you all provide in return?" Tristan asked, incredulous, "

"We protect Pern from Thread, Tristan." There was that word again,

"The word Thread seems to throw up an awful lot of emotions from you D'rell, all of 'em negative. What exactly is it?"

D'rell explained the nature of the organism that attacked his planet every two hundred turns or so. He explained the way that Dragons were developed genetically from firelizards and how they fought to burn Thread from the skies. He didn't need to explain how dangerous a task it was, Tristan had already worked that one out when he had heard about D'sar's death.

When D'rell had finished Tristan let out a long low whistle,

"That's one hell of a responsibility to take on, it's a wonder anyone wants to be a Dragonrider."

"Like I said it's an honour to be chosen."

"How are you chosen exactly?"

"We are searched," D'rell explained, "There are Dragons who are very good at seeking out the more receptive young ones amongst the Holds and Crafthalls. When there are eggs hardening on the hatching grounds those dragons go out with their riders and find likely candidates. B'son and Cerith are particularly good at finding candidates. It was Cerith that found me."

"B'son?" Tristan asked, frowning, "Is that the guy who was here last night?"

"Yes that's right." D'rell said as he took up a piece of fruit and began peeling it,

"Your healer?" Tristan asked and D'rell looked up sharply,

"B'son isn't my anything." D'rell told him, frowning back. There was no time to expand on his statement though as Areth announced they had visitors,

_~Lioth comes, with N'ton and the Master Harper. _She told him and he nodded in acceptance,

_~Is there room for you and Lioth in the weyr? _He asked his green dragon,

_~There is room, but I will move, I do not wish to share with Lioth, he is not my mate._

_~I understand love, where will you go? _D'rell tried to hide the shock of sadness that he felt when Areth said this. He had been right about her missing Merth, and although she did not feel the loss as he did, she still felt it,

_~I go to the fire heights, Jenth and Cerith are there. B'son wishes to know how your guest is._

_~Tell him everything's fine. _D'rell told her. He listened to hear her shuffling off the ledge and go,

_~I am glad you are feeling better, Tristan. _Areth directed this towards the visitor and D'rell regarded the taller man with wide eyes; amazed that Areth spoke directly to him; that he heard it too and that she would name him after knowing him only a day,

"We got visitors?" Tristan asked, for all as if hearing a dragon was an every day occurrence for the man. D'rell realised he had heard the entire exchange between him and Areth. He cocked his head on one side,

"Do you hear everything she says?" D'rell asked, for he knew that there were a few non riders who could hear dragons when they needed to but he had never met a non rider who could hear without the dragon actually directing their thoughts specifically to the person in question,

"I heard everything," Tristan explained, "What she said and what you said." D'rell's eyes widened even more. This was a new one on him. People heard dragons but they didn't hear other people. He shouldn't be so surprised though, because he had had an entire conversation with the man the night before just as he would speak to Areth.

There wasn't time for further discussion on the subject as they both heard the scrabbling of a much larger dragon landing on the ledge of D'rell and Areth's weyr.

D'rell walked through to greet the new arrivals asking Tristan to wait in the living room.

Tristan did as he was asked, in body anyway. His mind, he sent searching, curious as to whether he could indeed "hear" another dragon,

_~Your voice is very strange. _A distinctly male sounding voice sounded in Tristan's head and he gasped. The strength of the mind he encountered astounded him, since Areth's mind and voice had been so gentle and feminine. She was female, Lioth was most definitely male and strong and commanding,

_~My name is Tristan._

_~I know, Areth told me. She says you are from another world, a long way from here. You are very lost, Tristan. Areth says we should help you to feel not so lost here. I agree._

_~Thank you, Lioth. W-would you mind if I came through to see you? _Tristan asked and Lioth gave his consent.

Tristan stood and walked through the curtained archway that led to the large entrance cave.

D'rell and two other men, one tall and dark skinned another, slightly shorter, but still tall, with dark hair and very dark brown eyes,

_~The shorter man is N'ton my rider. He is Weyrleader of Fort Weyr _Lioth explained, ~_The other is Sebell, Master Harper._

Tristan thanked Lioth for the information, but he did not really give the newcomers very much more than a cursory glance. He was staring instead at the enormous bronze dragon that practically filled one half of the cave. He approached the creature, wide eyed and in awe,

"Oh my God you're fucking huge." He exclaimed, forgetting the three men who were now watching him with a mixture of surprise, amusement and annoyance on their faces, "You must be twice the size of Areth."

_~Areth is a green, and greens are usually much smaller. I am a bronze, a male, we are usually the biggest, apart from our golden queens of course._

Tristan listened to this and nodded, aware that he had been approached by the man that Lioth had said was his rider, N'ton. Tristan turned to regard the slightly taller man, who was giving him a very curious, searching look,

"Er, hi." Tristan said, a little abashed at his entrance and his exclamation,

"You are Tristan." N'ton said, "I see you're already acquainted with my dragon, Lioth."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I just wanted to test out a theory." Tristan said, "I'm sorry if I overstepped any mark or anything." He stepped away from Lioth.

N'ton held out his hand in a traditional greeting, Tristan stared at it. Physical contact created a telepathic link. He knew that D'rell and B'son had been surprised to hear his thoughts in their heads the night before, when it had been necessary, but not afraid. He took N'ton's hand in his,

_~It's nice to meet you N'ton, and Lioth. _He addressed them both. N'ton's eyes widened and he looked sharply at D'rell who nodded and tapped the side of his head gently with his index finger. N'ton nodded,

"Interesting." N'ton said, curious, but to Tristan's relief not afraid or angry at the intrusion. He was after all used to talking to his dragon.

If N'ton thought him interesting, Tristan thought N'ton even more so. The touch of his mind was different from D'rell's. D'rell was unassuming, almost shy in his response to Tristan's thoughts but N'ton's mind was that of a leader: forceful and commanding and used to having his orders followed,

"Is it only in physical contact that you are able to speak to us that way, Tristan?" N'ton asked. A very intelligent and informed question; usually Tristan was the one having to explain the mechanics of telepathy. Here he realised that these people already knew a lot about it, this was a refreshing change but Tristan still found himself wanting to be cautious,

"I usually avoid physical contact if I can, N'ton." He said in his strange, alien sounding accent, "Physical contact not only allows us to communicate telepathically but it also forms an empathic link."

"Empathic?" Sebell stepped forward, interested in the word, and the sound of it and, Tristan sensed, fascinated by the sound of his voice, "You can sense other's emotions?" he asked, "I can't decide if that is a good thing or a bad thing." He said, smiling ironically, "I am Sebell, by the way, Master Harper. It's very nice to meet you, Tristan. I came last night but you were asleep." Tristan smiled, and not just at the man's word but at his hesitation to shake his hand. He was obviously giving Tristan the opportunity to initiate the contact. Tristan held out his hand and Sebell took it with gratitude and humility,

~_Nice to meet you too, Sebell._ Sebell gasped, taking several involuntary steps backwards.

Suddenly a golden blur of angry wings and screeches appeared between Tristan and Sebell.

The tiny golden firelizard was joined by another, a bronze, both of which flew angrily at Tristan who backed away in alarm. These creatures were firelizards, like Roxi, so they should be able to hear him as she had. They were far too angry to listen and it took a much more forceful mind to calm the two angry creatures.

Lioth gave a low, menacing rumble and both the gold and the bronze disappeared with a crack and a blast of icy air.

Their disappearance left a space between Tristan and Sebell. The Master Harper had recovered some of his shock. Tristan looked positively grey with anxiety,

"I-I'm sorry." He managed to stutter before disappearing through the curtained archway, back into the living room.

He ran through the living room and back into D'rell's bedroom. The only safe place he could think of to regain his composure. He sat on the bed and buried his face in his hands.

He'd known it was too good to be true. D'rell, B'son and N'ton were Dragonriders, used to telepathic contact. Sebell was not and Tristan had overstepped the mark by speaking to him in such a way. Sebell had reacted like most others that Tristan had ever encountered: with fear and shock. Those two firelizards had appeared to protect him. Tristan realised that, although he had landed himself on a planet that accepted telepathy more than any other place he had ever visited, his abilities were still going to be considered abnormal and strange.

He was going to have to be careful, very careful, because anywhere else, if people had made things difficult for him he had moved on. Here he did not have that option, at least not for the foreseeable future anyway. He was going to have to suppress his abilities as he did in every other situation he had been in. He would have to apologise to Sebell and to D'rell and N'ton.

He only hoped that this was not going to make it difficult to stay where he was because even after a day he felt safer in this strange cave dwelling with this interesting young man with the deep blue eyes and his beautiful, green Dragon,

_You are safe here _A voice startled him and he looked up,

_Areth? _He called,

_Areth and D'rell. _The two voices sounded as one in his head and suddenly he did feel safe.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N Apologies for this taking so long. As always the characters that belong to Anne McAffrey still belong to her. The other characters belong to me, but they also belong to Pern which belongs to Anne. *sigh* so I guess they belong to her too, by default,_

_DS_

OoOoOoOoOoOo

D'rell watched in astonishment as Tristan disappeared through the curtained archway. The incident with the firelizards had shocked them all; although, Sebell's reaction to Tristan's voice inside his head had been just a little extreme from D'rell's point of view. After all, he was used to hearing dragons wasn't he?

As Tristan disappeared D'rell heard Areth reassuring him, and also several others: Lioth and Cerith amongst them. This astonished him beyond measure, that the dragons were so quick to offer this newcomer protection and reassurance. He wanted to add his own voice to theirs although he wasn't sure whether Tristan would hear him or not. He didn't really understand the explanations that Tristan had given about there having to be a physical connection, since he was certain that they had not been in physical contact every time they had communicated telepathically the night before.

He would worry about the mechanics later. Right now he needed to see if Tristan was alright. The fear and remorse and desperation he had felt from the man had almost overwhelmed him and then a second later the feelings had gone, as if Tristan had shut him out. He didn't understand why, but that fact made him feel sad.

He chased after the distraught traveller, leaving Sebell and N'ton to stare after him, not worrying, at that moment about The Master Harper or what two of the most important men on Pern must think of his hospitality.

"What the shell…?" N'ton exclaimed as he watched D'rell disappear after Tristan. He looked to Sebell. The Master Harper was breathing quickly and looked a little pale but he did not seem alarmed or hurt in any way,

"His voice." Sebell managed to say, in awe, "I heard his voice in my head."

N'ton nodded, "Me too." He stated, frowning slightly in confusion at Sebell's reaction, "But you hear dragons, Sebell, when you've needed to." Sebell nodded,

"Yes, but it was always as if I was hearing them from a distance, almost as if it was a whisper. His voice was so different, so clear and loud. It was like he was singing inside my head." He shook his head in disbelief, "I just got a shock that's all and Kimi and Rocky, they reacted to that, unfortunately." He concentrated and the two firelizards reappeared, clucking and whistling apologetically and keeping as much distance between them and Lioth as they could.

Lioth gave a small, positive rumble and the two firelizards seemed to relax. They both landed on Sebell's shoulders and nuzzled him,

"I'm alright, you sillies." He murmured, smiling. He looked up at N'ton, "Is Tristan alright?" he asked. To be honest he felt a little embarrassed by his reaction and; poor Tristan; being confronted by two angry firelizards on his first day on a strange planet could not be good for the nerves. N'ton shrugged his shoulders,

"I think D'rell has it under control." He explained, "Too many people interfering might makes things worse. He seems a bit flighty, this star man of his." Sebell smiled at the words, making a mental note to tell his wife, who, he was sure, was already composing a song about the visitor from another world.

N'ton noted the slightly distant look on Sebell's face. He'd seen it many times before and he chuckled to himself and shook his head, _Harpers_. He walked through into D'rell's spacious living quarters, brushing his hand across his dragon's eye ridge as he did,

_~Tristan was shocked by The Master Harper's reaction, but we have told him he is safe. _Lioth told him, causing N'ton to stop in his tracks, surprised beyond measure that his dragon would name the man he had only just met, and that he would use a collective term,

_~We? _He asked, curious,

_~We. _Lioth confirmed, _~Areth, myself and D'rell. I think Cerith too and Jenth._

_~But he hasn't even met Cerith and Jenth. Shells, Lioth, you've only just met him. You have trouble naming my Wing leaders that you've known for Turns. What is it about him, that you name him and protect him so readily?_

_~He was very polite, and he has a nice voice. _ N'ton laughed at Lioth's obstinate tone as he sat himself at the small table in D'rell's living room.

Sebell had followed and gave him a knowing glance, having spent enough time with Dragonriders to know when spontaneous laughter usually meant a draconic conversation,

"Did Lioth say something funny?" he asked, sitting on the sofa opposite the table,

"He said the same as you about Tristan's voice. That it was nice," he leaned forward to emphasise his next words, "He names him." Sebell's eyes widened,

"Lioth never names anyone." Sebell said in surprise,

"I know, not even you and he's known you long enough." N'ton smiled, a wry smile, "He calls you The Harper."

"Oh, thanks." Sebell sighed sarcastically, "At least I get a The." He chuckled,

_~The Weyrleader and The Weyrwoman come _ Lioth announced, ~_I will move for Mnementh. _N'ton sat up straight,

"F'lar and Lessa are on their way." N'ton told Sebell who immediately stood and walked back towards the weyr's cave. The two men exchanged glances,

_~Lioth, is Lessa in a good mood? _N'ton asked, always wary of the Benden Weyrwoman's sharp tongue,

_~Mnementh says she is excited. _N'ton groaned, that could cover a multitude of evils where Lessa was concerned. He hoped she wasn't excited in a negative way. She could sometimes be difficult and highly strung, both emotions Tristan could probably do without right now,

"Lessa?" Sebell asked, conveying in the one word all that he wanted to ask. N'ton shrugged and the two went to the curtained entrance to await the arrival of Mnementh and his passengers.

Tristan sat on D'rell's bed burying his face in his hands. How could he have been so stupid? Sure these people communicate telepathically with their dragons and sure they have some abilities akin to his own but that had made him complacent and he had let down his guard. The reaction of Sebell to his mental intrusion brought him back to reality with a slap. This place had the potential to be just like anywhere else he had ever lived. They would inevitably fear and hate him for his abilities, because it was simply human nature to fear what they did not understand.

He ran the real risk of being ostracised and isolated and only accepted when his abilities were useful. Regardless of the fact that the people he had met so far had appeared to accept him and the dragons were quite unique and surprisingly supportive and caring. There was one fact about him that would almost certainly change their attitude towards him. Once they all knew everything about him, he knew it would only be a matter of time before the fear and the hate would surface.

His shoulders shook as he sobbed, softly into his hands. He wouldn't usually be so fragile but his body had been through hell. He'd been in Cryogenic sleep for far longer than anybody would usually be expected to be. His body was going to take some time to recover and his emotions and thoughts were in turmoil right now. The memories of the last few minutes before going into Cryo were still very clear and raw, saying good bye to Cerise and everything that they had shared had been painful and traumatic.

He'd come out of Cryo and emerged from the pod on the side of a mountain in the middle of a snow storm and he had been quite literally terrified out of his mind.

For a person who had spent most of his life in controlled environments on ships and inside the massive protective weather domes of the planets he had visited; to be suddenly thrust into the outside world and caught in weather he had never physically encountered had been, for him, the closest thing to hell he had ever experienced.

Then he had been saved, saved first from madness by a voice: a calm, feminine voice that had soothed him and comforted and explained that he was safe; and then by an act; an act that had blown him away both in its incredibleness and its familiarity. He had been teleported from that mountainside and he had suddenly found himself astride that incredible creature and being held by that incredible man and everything seemed to be a bit of a dream.

Things had played out as if he was in some kind of Cryo induced fantasy. Here was someone who could communicate like him, telepathically, and didn't actually freak out from hearing his voice in his head; and an amazing creature that could do the same. Both D'rell and Areth had accepted, with a calm kind of curiosity, that he could hear them and speak to them this way. A reaction he had never encountered, in his entire life living amongst humans. Had he finally found a place where he could fit in? Everything had seemed to be pointing towards that conclusion until he had met Sebell and everything had been turned upside down by one little slip.

He felt a tight knot of panic rising in his stomach. If he wasn't accepted here, what would he do? He couldn't move on, like he always did; find another job, and attempt to start again. There weren't the safeguards here that he was used to everywhere else. He had no idea if he was even safe. He was stranded here. From what he had seen so far of the technology on this planet he was fairly sure they did not have any kind of space travel capabilities. What was going to happen to him now? If he wasn't accepted here, where would he go? What would he do?

_~Tristan, you are safe here, don't worry, Sebell is not angry; he is concerned that he has frightened you. _Areth told him softly, and behind her voice, joined with hers he heard others talking, saying the same words, conveying the same feelings of reassurance. One he recognised, the others he did not. And then there was D'rell's voice,

_~Tristan, are you alright? _Tristan sat up straight. What was going on here? His shock at hearing D'rell's voice without the physical contact to make the connection was beyond surprising for him. How was that possible? D'rell was human, was he not? And humans could not form a telepathic link without physical contact, could they?

Tristan shook his head. Of course they could. They were just not open to it elsewhere, but here it happened everyday with their dragons. This planet was getting more interesting by the minute.

D'rell entered the room and Tristan could see he was angry, but not at him. He felt that immediately. The anger was directed at the two firelizards and a little at Sebell, although that was mingled with a small amount of guilt since Sebell was an important person and D'rell was just a Green rider.

Not just a Green rider, Tristan thought to himself as he regarded D'rell with a mixture of fear and amazement. Fear at what his actual reaction was going to be, because humans constantly thought one thing and said another, but also amazement that he could feel so much from the man after knowing him less than a day. With Cerise it had taken weeks for her to accept a bond with him, and even then it had always been with fear and a little reluctance, and also always when in physical contact.

Tristan felt a spark of regret and sadness at the loss of his friend, and found himself wondering where she was and even if she had survived at all. He supposed he would never find out now. He was jarred from his deep, sad thoughts as D'rell joined him on the edge of the bed.

Tristan's hand went immediately to his wrist where he still wore his psych stone. The device he had so adamantly argued he needed with him. Its unique ability to dampen telepathic noise would no doubt be very valuable here. He touched it gently to activate it as D'rell sat down beside him. He did not want to freak this man out too, even though he had already been subject to Tristan's telepathy.

D'rell sat down beside the shaking man and laid a hand on his shoulder. He immediately withdrew it, not wanting to alarm Tristan or to have his own emotions confused with that of Tristan's. However he did not experience the rush of emotions this time and he could only surmise that the man had more control over them and his abilities now he was a little better recovered from Cryo,

"Are you alright, Tristan?" he asked out loud, unaware that Tristan had already heard him ask that question telepathically. Tristan regarded him through blurred, teary and tired eyes,

"Did I just mess up big style, D'rell?" he asked, his voice fragile and weary,

"Mess up, how?" D'rell asked, hoping that he sounded reassuring and calm,

"Is Sebell okay?" Tristan asked, "Is he angry with me?" D'rell felt shock at Tristan's question,

"Why would he be angry with you?" He frowned slightly, cocking his head to one side, "You gave him a shock that's all. He's not used to that kind of contact. He's more worried about you and he's angry that his firelizard should react so extremely. I think emotions are high today. He apologises for them scaring you." Tristan's green eyes widened and D'rell frowned, "You act as if you aren't accustomed to apologies." He observed in surprise,

"I ain't accustomed to being accepted full stop, D'rell. Forgive me if I let my guard down, but I got a little ahead of myself when I realised that here might be a little different."

"Different how?" D'rell asked curious. He wanted to know everything about this strange young man who had exploded into his life. Tristan sighed heavily,

"No one ever apologises when they're kickin' you out on your ass for bein' a freak, or forcin' you to use your abilities for their own good and against your will." He gasped and D'rell could see he was fighting back tears, "Everywhere I ever been I've been shunned and feared because of who I am and what I can do."

"Well not here." D'rell said firmly, causing Tristan to catch his breath as the words were emphasised with a distant bugle from Areth and a few others. He regarded D'rell with wide green eyes again and D'rell shrugged, "I think news of your presence might be spreading." He said laughing,

_~We want him to feel welcome. _Areth told her rider and D'rell regarded Tristan with a knowing smile,

"See." He said, "If the dragons accept you then everyone else will gladly welcome you."

"The Dragons accept me?" Tristan asked, incredulous. D'rell gave him an enquiring look,

"You didn't hear Areth?" he asked, frowning. Tristan shook his head and held up a strange looking device strapped to his wrist that D'rell had noticed before but he hadn't been able to ask about it,

"This is called a psych stone. It creates a telepathic dampening field that blocks out all telepathic noise." Tristan explained, "Unless I concentrate very hard I can't hear a thing telepathically." He sighed as if with relief, "Sometimes it is the only thing that keeps me sane when there is no generated field planet side. The telepathic noise can sometimes be too much for me." D'rell reached out to touch it gingerly, his blue eyes wide with interest. His fingers traced the intricate carvings on the leather strap then he gently touched the translucent, purplish stone that was set deep into the strap.

Tristan gasped as the touch of D'rell's finger to the stone opened a link between them. D'rell also gasped as he felt the rush of emotion and thoughts from Tristan although they were not as raw as they had been the night before. He withdrew his hand and regarded Tristan with raised eyebrows,

"You are a very interesting man, Tristan." He told his unexpected guest, "I am very glad Areth and I found you when we did."

"Not half as glad as I was." Tristan smiled, "That mountainside was pretty damn scary, D'rell." Tristan looked down at his feet, "I-is Sebell really alright?" he asked softly. D'rell nodded,

"He sent his apology via Lioth, but I think he would much rather apologise to you in person if you want to come back into the living room." D'rell told him, "You should know, that whatever the reaction to your abilities has been in the past, Tristan, here, they are accepted." He stood, turning and offering a hand to Tristan to help him to his feet.

Tristan stared at the hand and then at D'rell, his green eyes wide and his eyebrows raised. D'rell smiled in embarrassment, his dimples deepening and withdrew his hand, blushing slightly,

"I think we may have more visitors," he said, clearing his throat and looking towards the curtained doorway of his room, as much in embarrassment as to avoid Tristan's shining green eyes,

"Oh, who?" Tristan asked,

"My Weyrleaders, F'lar and Lessa." D'rell explained, trying to get over the fact that his weyr was filled with so many important people. Tristan frowned,

"I thought N'ton was Weyrleader." He sounded confused and D'rell chuckled. This was going to be a monumental task, explaining his planet and its idiosyncrasies and politics to a complete stranger,

"N'ton is a Weyrleader, but in a different Weyr. We are in Benden Weyr, N'ton leads at Fort Weyr." D'rell regarded Tristan's anxious look, "Don't worry, everything will be explained to you and no one will think bad of you if you don't remember it all." He leaned towards Tristan in a conspiratorial stance, "Sometimes, I have trouble remembering who is who, and I've lived with it all my life." He chuckled softly as he made to go through the curtained doorway but Tristan caught his sleeve,

"D'rell." He said, still looking a little nervous and shuffling his feet,

"Tristan, you'll be fine." He assured, laying his hand on Tristan's arm,

_~I am here too _Areth told him and he regarded D'rell with widened eyes. D'rell realised with shock that he had opened a link by touching the man. He withdrew his hand. Tristan gave him a reassuring smile,

"I'll be fine if I can only hear you and her." He said, "At least you'll be able to stop me makin' any massive mistakes."

The corners of D'rell's mouth twitched into a smile and he nodded,

"Let's go meet your audience." He said and Tristan rolled his eyes comically as they walked through the curtain laughing.

This was how they appeared as they walked into the living room: two men smiling and laughing together.

Sebell and N'ton had made themselves at home on D'rell's sofa and they were joined by a man and a woman who exchanged wide eyed glances with each other as D'rell and Tristan entered the room.

Sebell immediately jumped up and offered his apologies for the behaviour of his and his wife's firelizards. Tristan accepted graciously,

"Where are they now?" he asked. Despite the shock of their confrontation, he wanted to see them again. They were fascinating little creatures,

"I've sent them back to the Harper Hall, Tristan." Sebell explained, "Perhaps once you are recovered enough you could visit and meet them when they are better behaved." Tristan smiled and nodded, although he didn't really want to think about leaving the relative safety of D'rell's weyr just yet.

D'rell regarded Tristan with a bright smile before he introduced him to the newcomers,

"Tristan, this is F'lar and Lessa, they are Weyrleader and Weyrwoman of Benden Weyr." Tristan smiled a warm, if a little awkward smile as F'lar stepped forward and nodded. His hand twitched as if he was going to offer it in a traditional greeting but he was stopping himself. Tristan stretched out his hand and F'lar took it,

"It's nice to finally meet you Tristan." He said, frowning slightly as if he was expecting something else. Tristan did not attempt to speak to him telepathically, not wishing a repeat of what had happened with Sebell,

_~F'lar won't react as Sebell did, and Lessa will be even less surprised: she hears every dragon. She's a formidable woman, but her bark is worse than her bite. _D'rell's soft voice filled Tristan's head as he sensed the man's hesitation and anxiety.

Tristan regarded him, wide eyed and D'rell returned the stare with a mixture of reassurance and also some mischievousness. Tristan's mouth twitched as he turned back to F'lar. Only D'rell noticed him surreptitiously touch his fingers to the psych stone to deactivate it. He reached out his hand and F'lar took it hesitantly,

_~I'm very pleased to meet you too, F'lar. _ Tristan responded and F'lar smiled a surprised and incredulous smile. Tristan returned the smile and then turned his attention to the dark haired diminutive and distinguished woman standing by the tall Weyrleader's side.

She regarded him with steely, piercing grey eyes and Tristan couldn't help feeling a little intimidated. This was not helped by the fact that, because he had turned off his psych stone he could now quite clearly feel D'rell's intimidation and even trepidation,

_~Her bark is worse than her bite, her bark is worse than her bite_, Tristan heard D'rell's voice chant inside his head, as if the young Green rider was reassuring himself. Tristan wanted to laugh. This man was head and shoulders taller than the woman, in fact every man here dwarfed her considerably, yet, they all deferred to her. She was one to watch and to get on the good side of.

Tristan was nothing if not charming. He reached out, took Lessa's hand gently in his and kissed it in such a chivalrous manner that she gasped. Her face lit up in with a wide smile as she flashed a wicked grin towards her tall partner,

_~My Lady. _Tristan spoke softly in her head and she chuckled,

"I think we're going to get along just fine, Tristan." She said, smiling and guiding him towards the table so that they could sit and talk.

Tristan flashed a quick glance at D'rell who had leaned back against his work bench. He was regarding him with a mixture of amusement and respect for winning over the difficult Weyrwoman so quickly,

_~Smooth. _D'rell's voice whispered in his head and Tristan's green eyes sparkled with mirth,

_~I've barely started. _Tristan shot back. D'rell felt his face heat up at the obvious flirt. It had been a long time since someone had flirted with him for a reason other than softening him up for an impending mating flight. Tristan was going to have to be watched very carefully,

_~He likes you. _Areth's voice sounded from nowhere. D'rell scowled,

_~Be quiet, you, _he hushed her, ~_I can live without your little snippets of wisdom_

_~I was only saying,_

_~Well don't, and stay out of it. He doesn't need you to play match maker._

_~No, he doesn't. He's doing alright on his own._

D'rell gave a startled look at the visitor, who was apparently hanging on Lessa's every word. His eyes flickered briefly in D'rell's direction though, indicating to the green rider that he had heard every word of his and Areth's exchange.

D'rell groaned. Tristan was definitely someone that was going to have to be watched very carefully.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_A/N Hopefully the next chapter won't be so long coming. Read and enjoy, review if you want._

_DS_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Oh people. I am so sorry if any of you thought I had abandoned this story. I haven't, I have just had so many other pulls on my time. I have two or three chapters ready to go so will post every few days to make up for such a long delay. Thank you for your loyal support,_

_DS_

* * *

><p>Tristan woke the next day feeling refreshed and physically much fitter than the day before. There was less pain and stiffness and his head did not feel quite so fuzzy.<p>

He also felt much happier about his situation now that he had spoken to the Weyr Leaders and the Master Harper. He had learned a lot about this planet and its people. Sebell had given him a brief history of how the planet had been colonised.

He had been particularly interested and horrified by the description of thread and the development of the dragons to combat it. The bravery of the Dragon Riders that fought to protect their planet every day against that terrible menace filled him with respect and he had, more than once, glanced over at D'rell, who appeared so unassuming and deferring as he leaned against his workbench to stay out of the way. He was one of those brave riders and Areth was one of those brave dragons.

Tristan had gone to bed that night with a lot on his mind. There was a lot to take in. The main thing was that he had taken over this young man's bedroom and, in the chaos of all the important visitors the day before he had not had the chance to ask where D'rell was actually sleeping.

Just after all his visitors had left, B'son had arrived and prescribed a session in the bathing pool that D'rell was so lucky to have in his weyr. Tristan had not needed a second invitation, jumping at the chance to try this luxury. Travelling in space often meant going without simple things such as long, hot, relaxing baths and even planetside Tristan had not had the opportunity often to bathe in such luxury and in private.

When Tristan had emerged, feeling more relaxed than he had ever felt, D'rell had already left with Areth; so that the dragon could feed, B'son had told him. He'd shuddered at the thought of what such a massive creature as Areth, or any of the much larger dragons he had met the day before, might eat.

He'd been tired after his bath though and B'son had ushered him off to bed before D'rell had returned. He had fallen asleep worrying about taking up the man's bed and deciding he would do something, or at least talk to D'rell about it the next day.

He rose and dressed in a fresh set of clothes that he assumed D'rell had set out for him. He admired the clothes in the shiny, polished looking-glass in D'rell's room. Damn that man knew how to dress, the clothes were fine and soft and very well made. He had never owned such fine things.

He walked out of the bedroom and went in search of his rescuer and host with the determination to find out where D'rell was sleeping and to talk to him about alternatives, since he did not wish to inconvenience the man. Right at that moment he couldn't really think about what alternatives there were. No one had spoken of any the day before. All had agreed that he was to stay in D'rell's weyr and the man had been more than happy to accommodate him. Tristan hadn't wanted to think about any alternatives either, feeling safe in this little cocoon with D'rell and Areth and her dragon friends telling him not to worry about a thing.

Tristan walked quietly into the living room, not wanting to disturb D'rell if he was asleep on the couch. He wasn't. Tristan continued on through the curtained doorway that led to Areth's weyr.

The dragon was there, curled up in the hollow that had probably been eroded by countless dragons before her. Tristan marvelled at her massive form. Knowing that she was by no means the largest dragon in the weyr did not detract from the impressive sight. As he marvelled at her size Tristan noticed a dark shape between her front legs. Curled up in the crook of her forelegs with a blanket wrapped around him, was D'rell.

Tristan stepped closer to get a better look. D'rell's eyes were closed and his face relaxed and slightly flushed in sleep. His dark hair was messy and sleep mussed. Tristan smiled at the peaceful sight, although he suspected that the hard rock floor of a cave was hardly the most comfortable place to sleep. This made him feel even more guilty about taking the man's bed.

He didn't really want to disturb them, though, they both looked so peaceful. He was about to turn back into the living room when the cave entrance, beyond Areth's sleeping form, caught his eye.

When he had arrived the day before last, he hadn't really had a very good look at the Weyr. He knew they were inside an extinct Volcano, which seemed incredible and magical to him. The caves or weyrs that the dragons and riders used were carved into the side of the ancient volcano bowl.

He stepped carefully around Areth and D'rell, fighting the urge to brush a stray lock of hair from the man's forehead and startled by the fact that he wanted to do that at all. D'rell was attractive, yes, and Tristan was not averse to same-sex pairings, preferred them even, but the pain of losing his close friendship with Cerise so suddenly was still quite raw. Plus Tristan did not yet know how things were on this planet. He couldn't rock the boat by declaring an attraction for the one person who was, at this minute his saviour, his host and his only hope of finding his feet on this strange planet.

Frowning slightly, he stepped up to the edge of the cave and gazed out into the bowl. His first reaction was not what he expected. He'd known they had flown into the weyr but he hadn't expected them to be so high up. He suddenly felt a wave of dizziness and vertigo at the sheer height and vastness of the place and reached out to grip the side of the cave opening.

His hand did not grasp onto hard rock though, it folded around a soft warm forearm. He turned with a gasp as a hand closed over his to steady him,

"Careful there, Tristan." D'rell smiled, showing a set of dimples that were altogether too deep to be alowed, "We didn't rescue you from that mountainside just to have you trip out of our weyr."

Tristan rolled his eyes in relief as he took a step backwards, swallowing slightly,

"Besides, you'd make a terrible mess on the floor of the bowl and Marna would go absolutely crazy." D'rell continued, grinning at Tristan's shock,

"Who's Marna?" He asked, smirking at D'rell's teasing,

"She's head woman of the lower caverns." D'rell explained, "She basically runs the weyr with Lessa. She organises just about everything that happens here unless it has to do with thread, and even then, I think it would probably change direction if she told it to." Tristan chuckled but D'rell cocked his head on one side, "You shouldn't laugh, you haven't met her. She's a force to be reckoned with." D'rell chuckled as Tristan gulped, "She also knows everything that goes on here and mothers everyone relentlessly, so don't worry about it, she'll love you." He grinned, poking Tristan playfully in the shoulder. His blue eyes twinkled as they met Tristan's green ones. He looked away quickly though, but not quickly enough for Tristan to see a shadow pass across his lovely face.

He wished he hadn't turned his psych stone on so full. But he didn't need to use telepathy to know that there was something about his presence in this weyr that bothered D'rell a great deal.

He watched as the man stared out over the Weyr bowl and Tristan admired the view, whilst desperately trying to find a way of broaching the subject of their sleeping arrangements,

"It's impressive." Tristan observed. Impressive sounded like the lamest description of what he saw.

The bowl of the ancient volcano stretched out before them. Far below them was the floor of the vast bowl. Tristan could see people moving about down there but they were like dolls from his vantage point: Tiny figurines.

Suddenly, from nowhere, two dragons appeared in the air above them, bugling. Their calls were answered by another and then the two circled lazily before flying towards entrances to weyrs on the opposite side of the bowl.

Tristan stared in wonder. He'd seen Roxi disappear between the day before, but to see it happen with two enormous dragons, that was something else entirely,

"Incredible isn't it?" D'rell asked him quietly and Tristan could only nod. D'rell placed his hand on Tristan's shoulder and turned him slightly to point out some interesting sights, "Finger Rock and Eye Rock." He said, and Tristan remembered what Sebell and F'lar had told him about these two devices, carved out of the rock that helped the people here mark the passage of time and the journey of their planet in orbit around its Sun.

Tristan gazed at the incredible view, lost in thought at the sheer determination that had made this planet and its people what it was,

"How come I don't hear you?" D'rell asked curiously realising that he had touched him and not felt any emotional reaction from the taller man. Tristan held up his wrist,

"Psych stone," he reminded the dark-haired rider, "I turned it up full, because I think I might just need it here."

"Do you think you will hear every dragon indiscriminately?" D'rell asked, Tristan nodded,

"Not just Dragons remember?" he said, "I hear the other side of the conversation too. Something I'm lead to believe is unique." D'rell nodded his head and gave him a concerned look,

"Will you have to use this stone permanently then?" he was showing a concern that Tristan wasn't used to and seemed to be genuinely worried that Tristan would have to rely on the stone for the rest of his life . Tristan shook his head,

"Eventually I'll be able to tune it all out, but my natural default setting is to hear everything."

"Did you always have this stone then?" he asked, curiously. Tristan shook his head and a haunted, sad look crept over his face,

"I inherited it from my mother." He told D'rell, "She died when I was fifteen."

"That's too bad." D'rell sighed looking away, "My parents died when I was fifteen too."

"Really?" Tristan asked, interested but also not wanting to pry. He certainly didn't need to sense any emotions or thoughts to understand the despairing look in D'rell's eyes. He wanted to ask more but his instinct told him this brave but introvert young man would not welcome the intrusion.

Tristan sighed and looked away, searching for something else to say. He continued to marvel at the view from the cave entrance but the initial wonder had gone. A silence fell between the two men and Tristan began to feel it keenly since even with the use of the stone he was not used to absolute silence. The only noise was the occasional sound from the weyr below. Just when he was about to broach the subject of where he should be sleeping D'rell broke the silence first,

"What did you do before you had the stone?" D'rell asked. Tristan stared at him in shock and D'rell swallowed awkwardly, "I didn't mean to pry." He said apologetically, obviously misinterpreting Tristan's shock as annoyance. Tristan shook his head,

"You ain't prying." He said, feeling a lump forming in his throat as he continued to stare, "No one ever asked before." He almost whispered.

Memories, painful and suppressed memories, resurfaced as he remembered his very difficult childhood having to hide his abilities when he could hear and feel every thought and emotion of those around him. It had almost driven him mad and the stress had caused him to withdraw into himself until he had been given the means to control the mental noise effectively, "Telepathic abilities among my people aren't always as developed as mine. I had a particularly hard time but my mother helped me."

"Your people?" D'rell asked curiously. Tristan froze, realising he'd said too much. He did not meet D'rell's eye as he backtracked out of what he had said,

"I meant as in my family, and where I come from as opposed to you and your people here." He said quickly, but D'rell could see he wasn't quite telling the truth. This just made him even more curious and he watched Tristan as he turned to go back into the weyr.

D'rell stayed a little while, stretching the sleep out of his muscles and to scratch at Areth's eye ridges,

_~He is worried _The sleepy dragon informed her rider,

_~Worried about what? _He asked her in silence, knowing that Tristan could not hear them at that moment, but not questioning the fact that Areth could hear or at least sense his thoughts,

_~That you will not accept him if you know the truth _She said as a matter of fact,

_~And what truth is that? That he has abilities akin to a dragon, or that he comes from our ancestral home? Or perhaps that he has travelled here using a technology beyond our capabilities? _D'rell could not understand the man's distress now that his status here had been established.

The day before, both the Weyr Leaders and The Master Harper had informed Tristan that he was welcome here. His abilities were not out of place, just a little exceptional and that, since he was now effectively stranded here he must think of Pern as his home. He was to be accorded all the rights of a citizen of this planet. D'rell didn't think they could have made it more clear just how welcome he was so he did not understand why the man was still so concerned and anxious. D'rell could think of no other reason that Tristan would think they would not accept him,

_~He does not hear me right now, so I cannot ask him _Areth said with concern as she opened both eyes and lifted her head. D'rell scratched one eye ridge, affectionately and reassured her,

_~Don't worry, dear heart, we'll get to the bottom of it I'm sure. He just needs to trust us, and I know how long trust can take to develop. _He remembered his own experiences of finding himself in a place and a situation he felt he didn't belong. What he was very certain of was that he was determined to protect Tristan more than he himself had been protected.

He wanted Tristan to feel safe and secure. He stopped at the curtained doorway into his living quarters through which Tristan had just disappeared. He wondered if staying here, secluded in his weyr wasn't such a good idea after all. Tristan needed to see for himself how accepted his presence was in the Weyr. D'rell had spoken to many who were anxious to meet the visitor: "Starman" many had called him and D'rell decided that seeing for himself just how excited the entire Weyr was about his presence here would go a long way to helping the man accept that he was safe,

_~Areth, are you prepared for a short flight?_

_~You are wanting a lift to the floor of the bowl?_

_~Yes love, not too tired are you?_

_~Never! _D'rell laughed and he walked through after Tristan.

He found the man sitting on the edge of the sofa looking anxious and wide-eyed,

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Are you ready for some breakfast?" D'rell asked him, smiling. Tristan's anxiety grew immediately,

"Here?" he asked and D'rell shook his head,

"I need to go down into the bowl this morning," That wasn't strictly true but he hated the thought of someone constantly having to trudge the steps to bring food up to his weyr, "There is a refectory where everyone eats."

"I don't know D'rell, there's a lot of people down there. Do they all know about me and what I can do?" he asked anxiously,

"They know you can talk to dragons and they talk to you. They know you are a visitor from the stars, but that is not enough to phase anyone here I assure you." His reassuring tone seemed to be winning Tristan over. What the man said next convinced D'rell he was seriously considering accepting the invitation,

"Will there be some more of that bread?" he asked enthusiastically. D'rell laughed,

"Yes, of course. It's baked fresh every morning." Tristan appeared to be weighing up the possibility of having more of the fresh baked bread against going out into the Weyr and suffering the scrutiny of everyone there,

"We'd have to go down into the bowl?" Tristan asked, D'rell nodded, "B'son said I shouldn't do too much in the first few days an' it's a long way down."

"That's okay, we don't have to walk." D'rell gave a small comical grimace, "Why should we when we have a dragon to take us?"

"We're gonna fly?" Tristan asked, "That's safe right?" his green eyes were wide with sudden excitement and trepidation. He had flown before, but had not appreciated just how high everything was at the time.

_~Let me speak to him _Areth told D'rell,

"Areth wants to speak to you." he told the taller man, "Can you turn your device off?"

Tristan nodded and did so, "It has settings." He explained, "If I turn it down a little I should be able to hear Areth and you." D'rell nodded and watched as Tristan fiddled with the intricate device on his wrist,

_~There, can you hear me now? _ Tristan's voice sounded in D'rell's and the young man nodded smiling,

_~You will be very safe with me, Tristan. _Areth told the tall visitor, _~You should know that I have never dropped D'rell, even when he was too drunk to hold on._

"Areth!" D'rell exclaimed in shock. Tristan laughed out loud but quickly stifled it when he saw the annoyance in D'rell's eyes. The dark haired rider was blushing furiously, "I don't get drunk that often." He felt the need to explain, "Well not as often as I used to, anyway." He said in a quieter voice. Tristan sensed the man's mortification at Areth's words and also his embarrassment at what he obviously thought should have been private information,

_~Sorry, D'rell _Areth apologised and he accepted it graciously. D'rell gave her a reproachful look as they entered the large cavern that was his dragon's sleeping chamber,

"Does that mean you will come?" he asked turning to Tristan and holding the curtain open for him to pass through,

"I guess." Tristan told him, a little uncertain but feeling a little more confident than he had been,

"Come on." D'rell told him, "Let's get going, before I waste away." He handed Tristan a thick jacket made out of some sort of cured animal skin,

"Where I come from we don't often come across animal skins for clothing any more." Tristan commented, "In some places it's banned altogether because it's seen as cruel." D'rell regarded him curiously,

"Here it's the only way to stay warm." He explained, "You can decide not to wear it of course, but it is cold out there today."

Tristan shrugged on the jacket as he followed D'rell back to Areth. It felt thick and warm and cosy despite it being just a little too big for him.

He stood in the doorway and looked from D'rell to Areth in anticipation,

"I hope this ain't difficult." He mused, "I jus' know I'm gonna make a fool of myself."

D'rell chuckled, "You'll be fine." He reassured, "Just do what I do and I'll pull you the rest of the way."

Tristan watched as Areth extended a fore leg. D'rell leapt agilely onto it and onto Areth's neck, settling between two neck ridges comfortably. He held out his hand, his blue eyes sparkling,

"Your turn." He smirked and Tristan glared with narrowed eyes trying to suppress his own smirk. D'rell might appear shy and introvert but he had a sense of fun and mischief that was at once annoying and endearing.

Tristan took a deep breath then made his own leap of faith, jumping onto Areth's foreleg then grasping D'rell's outstretched hand before being pulled onto Areth's neck to sit in front of D'rell between the same ridges,

"The two of us ain't too heavy are we?" Tristan asked and he heard both D'rell and Areth snort derisively,

_~I can carry as much as I want to carry, _Areth told him,

"If Areth thinks she can carry us then she can." D'rell explained cryptically into Tristan's ear as he wound riding straps around his hands to hold them both in place. Tristan's reply was simply a grunt since he didn't really have any more time to worry about it as Areth began to move towards the entrance to her cave,

_~Hold on,_ both she and D'rell ordered and he instinctively grabbed D'rell's arms which he realised were wrapped around his waist.

Tristan would have spoken right then but his breath was taken from him as Areth launched herself and her passengers from the mouth of the cave. She did not fly though, she simply stretched out her wings and plummeted, in a breath taking and stomach wrenching dive that seemed to be heading straight for the ground. Tristan fought the urge to scream but could not stop the strangled gasp that escaped from his mouth. D'rell tightened his grip on the taller man and Tristan held on for dear life,

_~Please don't let me die after I've come so far and found such a place. _Tristan prayed for all he was worth. He felt rather than heard D'rell's chuckle as they made their descent to the bowl.


	6. Chapter 6

Areth's death defying dive levelled out into a slow, graceful glide. She tipped her wings, seemingly without any need for instruction from D'rell, and circled, then spiralled lazily down until she was close enough to the ground to land without too much effort. Eventually she back winged to land deftly and lightly in a large flat area in front of a large tunnel entrance at one side of the volcano bowl.

The sheer exhilaration of the flight left Tristan a little dazed. Areth had executed the move with accuracy and skill and as little muscle movement as possible and he found himself congratulating her for her efficiency. She thanked him humbly.

D'rell dismounted first and held out his hands as he had two nights before, to help Tristan down. The taller man stiffly hooked his right leg back over Areth's neck ridge, getting a stark reminder why B'son had told him to rest. Even that simple movement seemed to take such an effort and despite wanting to explore more of his surroundings he had a feeling he would regret the exercise later. He slid down the dragon's extended foreleg to land awkwardly in front of D'rell who smiled mischievously,

"As easy as falling off a cliff." He said, his tongue in his cheek, his dimples showing. Tristan, still a little wild eyed, managed a derisive chuckle,

"In case you hadn't noticed, we just did fall off a cliff, D'rell." He said out loud. D'rell laughed and smacked him playfully on the shoulder,

"Come one let's get some breakfast, it's just through here." He led the way into the entrance to the lower caverns and Tristan followed, glancing back at Areth as he did,

_~I go to sun myself on the heights. _She explained to both men, ~_My friends are there._

_~Ok, love, see you later_ D'rell gave her a jaunty salute and she launched herself back into the air with powerful flaps of her wings sending sand and gravel flying and causing both D'rell and Tristan to shield their eyes.

"She's such a show off." D'rell said, curling his nose and smiling affectionately after her,

"Handy for a lift though." Tristan mused and was rewarded with a glare that turned into a grin as D'rell realised he was teasing,

"Let's go and eat." He said shaking his head as he laughed.

D'rell lead Tristan through the entrance tunnel, down some steps and out into what was possibly the largest natural cave the traveller had ever seen. Its low, gently arching ceiling spread out as far as the eye could see. The floor of the cave seemed to be set out in sections and at the far end he could see great stoves and an open plan, enormous kitchen area bustling with life and activity. Just in front of this were tables and chairs some of which were occupied. Tristan found himself wondering how the cave was actually lit since, from what he had seen of D'rell's home anyway, there did not seem to be any source of power for lighting. Just another mystery to solve on this strange but amazing planet.

The place was buzzing with activity and noise and Tristan was suddenly very glad of his psych stone. It had been a long time since he had been in the company of so many people. He usually avoided crowded places when he ever got the opportunity to be planet side and he felt a little self conscious and vulnerable,

_~You'll be fine,_

He looked to his side to see that D'rell had stopped beside him and laid his hand on his arm in reassurance. The man's deep blue eyes were full of concern and reassurance and Tristan was struck by how lovely they were. He quickly suppressed the thought before it could go any where near entering D'rell's head. No, it wouldn't do to have any sort of thought like that. Tristan took a deep breath and smiled, nervously,

"Thanks." He said simply, breaking the gaze D'rell had locked him into, "Where do we have to go?"

"Over here." D'rell indicated, showing him towards the dining tables.

He directed them to an empty table, tucked in a corner, but no sooner had they got there than they were joined by several very enthusiastic young men and women. They couldn't have been much older than their late teens and all accosted D'rell enthusiastically, firing questions at him in quick succession without giving him a chance to answer,

"D'rell," One dark haired girl pouted, "We thought you were still at Landing."

"No you didn't, liar." A tall lad told her with a snort, "That was just an excuse to come over," he leaned close to D'rell and cupped his cheek tenderly before kissing him lightly on the other cheek.

Tristan watched the exchange with interest, no one else in their party seemed to think the greeting was in any way out of the ordinary, and D'rell's cheeks flushed slightly as he gazed at the young man with some affection,

"We knew you were back, D'rell," the young man continued, "and we heard about your visitor." He turned to face Tristan, "You must be Tristan." He said, smiling, "I'm G'dral. My dragon, green Dalleth has told me all about you." By his demeanour and manner he seemed a little more mature than the chattering teenagers.

Tristan felt the man's calm acceptance and his curiosity and that of the others. They were eager to meet him and had a great many questions for him. They were also very eager to make him feel welcome, especially G'dral, since his dragon had added her voice to the chorus of draconic reassurance that had overwhelmed Tristan the day before.

Tristan sensed all this from everyone surrounding them, despite having his psych stone to white out the "noise". He felt suddenly dizzy and light headed, besieged by so many minds thinking directly at him. He had never experienced anything like it. These people's minds were so open to telepathy he was unprepared for the sheer volume of their thoughts. His psych stone could not hope to mask it all. The positive thoughts were also a new experience, since wherever he had been in the past his abilities had been met with suspicion, fear and hatred. Here they were lauded and he was completely overwhelmed by it all.

He wavered slightly and G'dral instinctively stretched out his hand to steady him. It wasn't his hand that caught Tristan though, it was D'rell's,

"Ok, everyone," D'rell moved in front of Tristan and between him and G'dral, "We've just come down for breakfast; we don't have time for chit chat. You, you, you and you." D'rell pointed at all of the younger men and women, "Get to your duty stations for this afternoon." They all groaned but left saying they would see him later and calling cheery good byes to Tristan and seemingly unaware that they had been so instrumental in causing him almost to pass out,

"Tristan sit, you're greyer than a used Glow." D'rell urged him, his body still between him and G'dral who seemed desperate to help and unhappy that he may have caused any of the upset,

_~Dalleth, will you please tell G'dral that I'm fine, he didn't do anything wrong? _Tristan called out to the man's dragon as he sat, hoping he had done right, since he did not know the protocols. G'dral seemed so concerned though and Tristan was feeling too weak to speak out loud and too wary to speak to the man's mind directly.

G'dral sat heavily, his own face paling,

"Shards." He exclaimed giving Tristan a wide eyed stare.

D'rell sat down beside Tristan and laid his hand on the man's shoulder,

_~Are you alright? _He asked, shocking Tristan at the ease with which he could now speak to him this way, _~Do you want me to call for B'son?_

It took Tristan a few moments to register what D'rell had asked and then he shook his head vigorously. If B'son came then he would be disapproving of Tristan's presence in the main Weyr anyway, after ordering him to rest. The man seemed disapproving of him full stop. He felt better now that he was sitting and his brain was beginning to adjust to this very openly telepathic atmosphere. Besides he wanted some breakfast, especially now that he could smell the delicious aroma of freshly baked bread. If B'son came he was certain to send Tristan back to D'rell's weyr, or worse, somewhere else entirely in order to make him rest,

"I-I'll be fine, D'rell, really." He assured the concerned rider who appeared to have got the just of what Tristan had been thinking, although not all, or at least Tristan hoped he hadn't heard it all since B'son was the man's friend. He turned his attention on the shocked and pale G'dral, "I'm sorry." He grimaced. G'dral tipped his head to one side, frowning, then his face broke out into a wide smile as he shook his head,

"Don't be." He assured, "Although, I should warn you that there are some who would think it very bad manners for you to speak directly to their Dragon without first asking permission." Tristan grimaced again and nodded,

"Right, thanks, I'll erm, bare that in mind." He sat back in his chair with a sigh, colour returning to his cheeks. D'rell's hand was still on his arm which rested on the table, he wondered if the dark haired rider was even aware that it was. He regarded G'dral with his bright green eyes, "You know I could have spoke directly to you, but when I tried that with people yesterday I got a very mixed response." G'dral chuckled,

"I wouldn't mind, although I'd appreciate a warning if that's what you are going to do, I've only ever heard Dalleth's voice, and occasionally Areth." He eyed D'rell who turned away with a blush causing Tristan to wonder what the relationship was between the two young men,

"What would you like for breakfast, Tristan?" D'rell asked him, speaking out loud and effectively changing the subject. He stood, still not meeting G'dral's eye or his,

"I can smell bread bein' baked." Tristan said with a twinkle in his eye causing D'rell to smile and chuckle, "Any chance of some bread rolls?"

"Of course," D'rell told him, "But you need something else to go with them." Tristan doubted it, since he was certain he could quite happily survive on nothing but bread if it tasted as good as it had the last two days but he nodded,

"Why don't you surprise me?" the traveller suggested, "What we had yesterday was good."

"What would you normally have?" G'dral asked, curious,

"I'd have whatever was processed by the ship's replicator that day and what was deigned to be nutritious and filling. It was usually grey and tasted the same as the stuff we had the day before and the day before that," he sounded as depressed as anyone could ever sound talking about a terrible food experience,

"And the day before that?" G'dral asked, and Tristan smiled,

"Oh the day before that it was green."

"Green!" G'dral grimaced, "Shard's forbid I would ever eat anything green, I would have starved that day." D'rell laughed,

"You would starve every day, G'dral, I can't imagine you eating anything grey either." G'dral clicked his tongue and pinched the flesh below D'rell's ribs. The dark haired rider yelped,

"And you eat anything when you actually remember to eat, but not enough of it to fill a tunnel snake's stomach, let alone your own." He commented. D'rell blushed, and looked away again. Tristan saw G'dral's sigh, not of frustration but of sadness and he felt G'dral's concern and protectiveness towards D'rell. The same protectiveness he had felt in B'son and to a lesser extent, the others he had met the day before. Why was everyone so protective of this man?

D'rell was about to go and get some breakfast but G'dral stood first,

"You stay with Tristan, D'rell." G'dral told him, "I'll get you both something." D'rell protested but G'dral won by running off before D'rell could argue effectively. To Tristan who had been raised and had lived in a very formal and professional atmosphere G'dral's behaviour seemed a little childish if effective. D'rell simply seemed to find it funny as he tried to hide a smirk at his friend's antics,

"You and G'dral are good friends?" Tristan asked, although he didn't really need to ask, since he had sensed as much and perhaps more, at least from G'dral. D'rell blushed again,

"Yes." He said simply, "Just good friends."

"He wants to be more?" Tristan asked, kicking himself for his forthright question. He was a trained counsellor and sometimes that training just took over.

D'rell shot him an angry glare before turning away. 'None of your bloody business' was definitely what Tristan was sensing from the man now and he had suddenly and abruptly shut Tristan out. An action that took him so by surprise he gasped although D'rell did not seem to notice what he had done.

G'dral returned at that moment, inadvertently avoiding any awkwardness between D'rell and Tristan. He placed a tray of fresh bread and fruit and other delicacies, along with two mugs of Klah, down on the table. D'rell noted the number of mugs,

"Aren't you joining us, G'dral?" D'rell asked in surprise. G'dral shook his head sadly,

"I can't I'm afraid, I've already eaten." G'dral told them regretfully, "I've drawn the early watch straw, I'm going on ahead to Benden Hold to make sure everything is ready for Threadfall." He stood and D'rell made a disappointed noise. Tristan simply stared at him in horror,

"Th-thread, today?" he asked looking in alarm from G'dral to D'rell. D'rell laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder,

"Not for another five hours, Tristan." He said soothingly and so matter-of-factly that Tristan found it difficult to correlate the stories he had heard with the absolute calmness with which these two young men were facing the greatest threat to their very existence.

G'dral took his leave of them, giving D'rell a lingering look as he left. Tristan watched as once more D'rell's face flushed slightly, but he did not look away. He watched G'dral walk across the cave floor with a sad look on his face. Tristan sensed he had wanted to say much more than a curt farewell, and wondered if it was his presence that prevented it,

"You c'n go after him if you want, D'rell, I'll be okay, if you need to say more to him in private." Again D'rell glared at him. Had he read the signs wrong? He was still recovering from Cryo after all. D'rell's glare lasted only a second and his expression returned to calm, reassurance,

"G'dral and I are just very good friends, Tristan." He explained, "Although I can see why you might think there was more between us. He has a partner, a male one. I also had a male partner for four turns. We are both green riders. These things make us close, nothing else." Tristan nodded, frowning slightly at the open way in which D'rell told him of his sexual orientation. That, above everything else here, made it a very different place from anywhere he had ever been,

"Does that make you feel uncomfortable?" D'rell asked, and Tristan could not tell if this annoyed D'rell or saddened him,

"Not uncomfortable as such." He said, still frowning slightly, "You jus' surprised me that's all. Where I come from it just isn't talked about so openly. I guess it's different here."

D'rell nodded,

"But only here in the Weyr. Elsewhere on Pern it's still frowned upon. It's accepted here because of the way we live, with our dragons."

"Areth and Dalleth are female." Tristan mused,

"Yes, they are, and when they rise to mate it will be with a male dragon. Sometimes it is one Dragon consistently, sometimes it is a different one each time."

"I guess nature doesn't change no matter where you are in the Universe." Tristan smirked,

"No." D'rell smiled shyly and it was his turn to look uncomfortable, "Sebell warned me that I should broach this subject with you as soon as possible, but I hadn't expected to have to do it so soon." He took a bite of bread and a sip of Klah before continuing, "When any female dragon rises to mate, the males chase her. All other females must be taken away because it is the only time that dragons would fight each other." Tristan whistled at the very thought of those immense creatures fighting, "A rider becomes caught up in the mating flight too. Their minds are linked so deeply that they become one with their dragon. When the male catches and mates with her, the two riders also come together." Tristan raised his eyebrows as he realised what D'rell was saying, "A great many green riders prefer that coupling, rather than male/female."

"You included." Tristan stated rather than asked, since he already knew the answer. D'rell nodded,

"Does that make you feel awkward being in my weyr?" he asked a little sadly and Tristan shook his head vigorously,

"No." he shook his head, "Not awkward at all, it's just that where I come from it wasn't talked about openly, ever, D'rell, that's what makes me uncomfortable, not knowing that it goes on, just talking about it and not worrying you're gonna get taken down some alley and beaten to a pulp about it."

"Shards." D'rell exclaimed. He didn't really know how to respond to that so they both ate in relative silence. Tristan could not help commenting on the food though and D'rell seemed to enjoy his fresh take on the stuff that he almost took for granted. Tristan saw it all very differently and it was refreshing somehow.

They didn't eat breakfast uninterrupted, since their inconspicuous little table suddenly became the centre of the Weyr. Despite D'rell choosing a table that was tucked away from the main thoroughfare of the massive cavern everyone seemed to make a detour to stop by and introduce themselves and Tristan barely got two mouthfuls between each visitor. This had been D'rell's plan all along, to show Tristan the acceptance he had found here, but he couldn't help thinking it would have been nicer to have an uninterrupted conversation with this strange man. The more Tristan opened up to him the more intriguing he became.

Every time someone new approached their table Tristan seemed to have a mouthful of food which he had to swallow quickly. D'rell tried not to find it amusing but he couldn't help smirking at Tristan's eagerness to eat but also to meet everyone. Tristan seemed to find it amusing too. With each visitor the mirth grew in D'rell's eyes and spilled over into Tristan's. The ridiculous of the situation was quickly threatening to reduce both men to fits of giggles.

Many of the people D'rell introduced Tristan forgot almost immediately. Not that he wasn't interested, just that there were simply too many to remember. With each introduction Tristan would get a short synopsis of what D'rell really thought about them. D'rell seemed outwardly so shy and unassuming but some of his inner remarks could be very acidic. This also threatened to reduce Tristan to fits of boyish giggles, something that he could not remember happening for a long time.

Two men joined them not long after they had finished their meal, and while they were still drinking their second mug of Klah. The first man, Tristan recognised as B'son and he greeted him warily since it was he that had ordered he stay in D'rell's weyr to rest. The second, a very tall, dark haired, dark eyed man with an open, fatherly expression was K'dan, B'son's partner,

"I ride Jenth, a blue." K'dan said as he sat. He was one of the few Tristan had met that did not automatically reach out his hand to greet the new comer. B'son had obviously drilled him. As soon as K'dan sat a flash of green appeared between them and began scolding and preening and chittering. K'dan sighed and lifted Roxi from the table,

"It's a good job there was no food lying about you little green menace." K'dan hissed, affectionately though,

"K, don't call her that, she has feelings," B'son pouted, taking a seat opposite Tristan and shoulder to shoulder with his tall partner,

"Yeah?" K'dan smirked, nudging B'son gently, "Pity she doesn't have manners too." He retorted as he deposited the now furious little firelizard onto B'son's shoulder.

She immediately left her perch and landed on Tristan's shoulder, much to his delight and B'son's consternation. B'son visibly prickled at Roxi's apparent betrayal. D'rell and K'dan exchanged amused glances,

"How is our visitor then?" B'son asked, trying to sound light and friendly but only managing to sound as if he was speaking through clenched teeth, "Did you sleep well last night?" Tristan nodded, smiling, "I must admit that I didn't expect to see you down here quite so soon."

B'son's tone said quite clearly that he had not wanted Tristan to be down here so soon,

"I offered him a ride on Areth." D'rell explained, "And he hasn't walked far I promise, have you Tristan?"

"No sir." Tristan shook his head. Both D'rell and K'dan snorted, quickly covering their laughter with coughing fits that looked equally as suspicious. B'son didn't seem to notice however and practically preened himself just as his firelizard was doing on Tristan's shoulder,

_~Dang it D'rell, I thought you were gonna keep me right and not let me make a fool o' myself. _ He thought angrily to D'rell. The dark haired rider was not phased by Tristan's outburst one bit,

_~I'm sorry, but his reaction to you calling him sir is just too precious, keep doing it and you'll be in his good books before you know it._

_~Why am I even in his bad books? _Tristan asked, surprised, but not really because he had sensed B'son's mistrust when they had first met,

_~B'son can be very protective, especially of me. _Tristan was very confused now,

_~Why especially of you?_

_~It's a long story. _D'rell glanced at him and Tristan saw that sad look in his eyes again. He cursed himself for putting it there with his damned questions,

"So," K'dan began decisively, "We are having a celebration after threadfall." He explained, oblivious to the silent conversation between Tristan and D'rell,

"A celebration of what?" D'rell asked with a laugh, since the two older riders never really needed an excuse to party,

"A tithing train came in yesterday and there's Benden Wine just waiting to be set free into our stomachs." B'son explained. He looked D'rell up and down candidly, "I might even let you have a sniff of some, D'rell."

D'rell snorted, "I'll have a glass or two, that's all, you know me."

"Oh, yes, only too well." B'son told him knowingly and D'rell blushed,

"Will you join us, Tristan?" K'dan asked, ignoring B'son's sharp intake of breath through his teeth. Tristan regarded both older men with wide eyes as he absently scratched at Roxi's eye ridges,

"I would love to, just as long as you don't think it would be too much for me." Tristan addressed B'son, trying not to sound too sarcastic.

B'son, it appeared did not catch the sarcasm, but Tristan could see that D'rell and K'dan had caught it and he caught them exchange more amused glances,

"I suppose it wouldn't be too much for you if you promised to just sit." B'son said, examining his fingernails and looking just a little too self important,

"I'm sure we can find someone to wait on you, Tristan." D'rell said, a twinkle in his eye, _~Maybe B'son would do it, should I ask him?_

_~Don't you dare! _Tristan gave a strangled gasp then realised that D'rell was teasing him and gave a small, shy chuckle. That man was getting the hang of this private form of communication far too quickly; although Tristan should hardly have been surprised,

"So!" K'dan exclaimed loudly, rubbing his hands together and startling all at the table, "Ready for Thread everyone?" he asked,

D'rell and B'son nodded. Tristan shook his head, his eyes wide,

"I don't suppose there's any way I c'n be prepared for something like that until I actually experience it first hand." Tristan told them all, a little in awe of these three men who would, in a few short hours, be defending their planet,

"You don't have to worry." B'son clapped him on the shoulder, "You'll be safe in D'rell's weyr whilst we all risk our lives." Although the blond rider's tone was light the contact allowed Tristan to feel the distrust and the sarcasm filling B'son's head.

Tristan shrugged away from the contact, trying to make it look nonchalant, but D'rell, at least, had seen his discomfort,

"Everyone has a job to do in the Weyr right?" Tristan asked D'rell who nodded,

"Don't worry, no one will expect you to do anything you can't manage." He assured him,

"No one will expect you to do anything except hide away in D'rell's weyr until it's all over." B'son added and there was sarcasm in his voice now, not just in his thoughts.

Tristan felt angry that B'son seemed to be going out of his way to make him feel uncomfortable and useless. D'rell had told him the man was overly protective of him. Whatever the reason for this it did not excuse B'son being so outwardly derisive and dismissive. Tristan was surely no threat to the friendship that D'rell and B'son shared. He felt the need to prove B'son wrong and make himself useful, even if he couldn't exactly do much because of his Cryo weakened body,

"I'm sure if I stayed down here I could find something to do that would be of help." He said glancing at D'rell and K'dan for support and getting it as they nodded their heads in agreement,

"Nothing for you to do old boy." B'son said in a vain attempt at lightness, "You wouldn't want to get in the way of the healers once the injuries start coming in."

Tristan saw the angry exchange of glances between D'rell and B'son and saw the blond rider flinch slightly as K'dan appeared to be kicking him under the table. B'son glared at his partner then turned back to Tristan with a look of self satisfied smugness,

"As your healer, I advise that you stay in D'rell's weyr then there's no chance of you hurting yourself and pulling healers away from vital work. When Thread is falling all citizens of Pern not directly involved with fighting it hide away in their holds and weyrs, there's no shame in it, it's simply what has to be done."

"I've had more than my fair share of reasons to hide." Tristan said, unable to hide his irritation now, "and this time I refuse, especially when there most definitely is something I can do to help." He felt, rather than saw D'rell's shock at his words,

"There's nothing you could possibly do to help in this case, Tristan." B'son scoffed, "You don't know anything about Thread, or dragons or Pern. There are no skills that you can learn travelling through space that could be of any use to…" he was cut off by Tristan, playing his trump card,

"Would it help if I told you I was a trained medic?" he asked. D'rell and K'dan choked into their drinks as Tristan produced the one skill that B'son, as a healer himself, could not ignore. B'son simply looked pale,

"A trained medic, you say?" K'dan asked, regarding his partner with an amused twinkle in his dark eyes. B'son's light blue eyes sizzled and seethed, "Well now that would be a useful skill, B'son, wouldn't it?"

B'son stood, pushing his chair back so hard it fell backwards and clattered to the floor,

"Yes it would." He said through gritted teeth, not meeting Tristan's eye as he righted the chair, "D'rell, why don't you introduce him to Marna and have her tell him what he can do, she might have somewhere he can fit in." With that he spun around and stormed off. Roxi gave Tristan's neck an affectionate nuzzle then flew off to join her companion.

Once he was well out of ear shot K'dan, who seemed, at first impression to be quiet and introvert next to his flamboyant partner, began to laugh, great snorts and gasps of mirth that D'rell mirrored with his own laughter, tears dripping down his face. Tristan felt his mouth twitch at the corner as he was infected with their glee,

"What did I say that was so funny?" he asked. D'rell clapped him on the shoulder,

"Don't worry, we're not laughing at you but what you've just done." He said and Tristan seemed startled,

"What did I do?" he asked,

"Oh you only happen to have the one skill that B'son can't deny or put down. What happened just now was priceless, just priceless." K'dan snorted with laughter again then stood, laying his hand on Tristan's shoulder. He felt calm acceptance and warm friendship from the man as he smiled down at him, "I'd better go and see if I can't get him into a better frame of mind before threadfall starts. I pity the injured riders he has to treat if he's in a bad mood." He walked off, taking his leave of D'rell with the same clasp of his shoulder and soft, almost sad smile.

Tristan thought the exchange a little odd, since they would be off fighting thread yet neither of them said good bye or good luck or even stay safe. He looked at D'rell to find the rider studying his face,

"You're wondering why we didn't say good bye?" he asked and Tristan was surprised that D'rell had understood so much of his thoughts despite him trying to keep them private. He nodded,

"Will you see him before thread starts?" he asked and D'rell shook his head,

"We're not in the same wing, I won't see him until after." There was a slight hitch to his voice and Tristan decided not to push it. Perhaps it was just the way here. Perhaps it was too painful to say good bye if there was a possibility that they would not see each other again, "Come on." D'rell said, standing, "I'll take you over to Marna, she can tell you what you can do."

Tristan stood too, feeling a little sluggish and stiff but feeling definitely better than he had, especially after the meal he had just eaten. He didn't think he'd ever eat again and it was only breakfast time,

_~Dragon's eat only once every three or four days. _Areth informed him conversationally, _~Perhaps you are like us in that way too._

_~Perhaps, although I doubt it, you're unique, sweetheart. _Tristan told her, glancing at D'rell for any signs that it was not polite to be so familiar with another's dragon. D'rell did not seem to mind, or even to have heard the exchange,

_~He is closed to me right now, he does this sometimes when it gets too hard for him to remember. _Areth explained cryptically,

_~Remember what?_

_~He remembers many things. He has lost a lot in his life, before we impressed and after._

Now Areth sounded sad and Tristan decided that the subject would have to be changed, although he was curious, very curious about this young man and his enigmatic dragon.

He had followed D'rell across the floor of the cavern to where a group of young people were gathered in what looked like a briefing of some sort. He was reminded that, although he was half way across the other side of the universe on a strange planet with strange customs and language shift some things did not change,

"Healers." D'rell had told him, by way of explanation.

The gathered group were all dressed in similar clothing, practical tunics and slacks with utility belts at their wastes, sporting a knife and pockets of equipment that Tristan assumed was first aid supplies.

As they'd walked they'd been passed by children running backwards and forwards on errands, some very young,

"Everyone is involved on a thread day." D'rell told him as he smiled at one young boy who had almost collided with them then stepped back with an apology that had died on his lips when he'd seen who he had almost collided with.

Both men had grinned at each other as the boy had run off, shouting to his friends that he'd just run into the "Starman".

"N'ton's nickname seems to be sticking." D'rell commented with a slight smirk as they drew closer to the group of healers. Tristan felt his face heat as he smiled back,

"I seem to have built up a reputation despite only being here two days." Tristan added, pleased that D'rell's mood seemed to have lifted,

"Are you surprised after what happened?" D'rell asked, and when Tristan gave him a quizzical look he explained, "When you were upset by Sebell's reaction I think every dragon in the Weyr came to your defence." Tristan gasped,

"I didn't know." He said, shocked that he'd made such an impact in such a short time. He hoped it didn't have a negative effect,

"Areth can be very vocal when she feels there is a cause to defend. She is very good at rallying the other dragons. She can be very opinionated, for a dragon, so I'm told." D'rell's expressive face gave a slight grimace which made Tristan think that perhaps his dragon's opinions had been a cause for embarrassment, "I'm not embarrassed, by no means." D'rell told him, shocking him that he had heard his innermost musings, "I'm proud of her, really, just sometimes I like to blend in with the background and Areth isn't always happy with that."

Tristan chuckled, thinking that this man was as much an enigma as his dragon was,

"Hello, D'rell," A tall, motherly looking woman with serious grey eyes approached them. D'rell greeted her with a hug, smiling warmly,

"This is Marna, Tristan." He introduced the woman who gave Tristan a candid, scrutinising look. Tristan almost squirmed beneath the scrutiny. There was no need for any telepathy here, he already could see that this woman stood for no nonsense and suffered no fools,

"Tristan, welcome to Benden and to Pern apparently," she smiled, without extending her hand, "I've heard a lot about you, mostly hearsay and rumours, though Lessa did fill in some of the blanks." she looked him up and down with an approving nod which made the man blush, "Yes, the clothes do fit you well, you're lucky to be roughly the same size and build as D'rell here. A little taller perhaps." She mused, "Yes, we'll have to find some longer trousers." She walked around him, "And perhaps a jacket that fits you better across the shoulders, this one is slightly too big."

Tristan had been thinking it was just right, and felt very comfortable. He gasped as Marna took the back of the collar of the jacket and looked at the inside lining. He heard her give a gasp and he turned to see her giving D'rell a soft, sad look that the dark haired rider was trying to avoid,

"This was D'sar's?" she whispered, and Tristan got the impression he wasn't supposed to hear. D'rell nodded curtly, looking away but Tristan did not miss the flash of pain in his eyes. Suddenly the jacket didn't feel all that comfortable,

"We'll get another one fitted just for you." Marna told Tristan who was only half listening as he watched D'rell step a little away from them, kicking at a stone a few feet away and pointedly not looking in his direction,

"It's okay, he can have that one, it's not as if D'sar needs it any more, and it's just sitting around, cluttering the place." He turned with a deep sigh, "I have to go to get ready for Thread." He told Tristan, all trace of pain, or hurt or sadness gone from his face, in its place there was a kind of blank neutral expression that Tristan found went deeper than just his outward appearance since he couldn't even read the man's emotions. He doubted he would be able to even with his psych stone turned off completely. D'rell seemed to have erected a wall, an impenetrable wall, "Marna will look after you." He said, softly by way of a farewell and then he was gone, half way across the enormous cavern before Tristan could even take a breath to say good bye.

He was startled by a light touch on his shoulder and he turned. Marna's emotions were not hidden and he even saw a tear in her eye as she watched D'rell's progress across the cavern to the exit and the bowl. The man disappeared from sight and Tristan sighed,

_~You look after him, Areth, you hear me? _He called to the green dragon,

_~Always. _She replied and then her touch was gone as she too had other things to concentrate on than strange visitors from another world.

* * *

><p><em>AN Hi as promised another chapter. Hope it isn't too long and boring. It is building up to Thread seen through Tristan's eyes and gives more info, or perhaps creates more questions about D'rell and Tristan's troubled pasts._

_Enjoy,_

_DS_


	7. Chapter 7: Healers and Thread

_A/N I have no excuse for this taking so long because it sat on my laptop for ages. It just need a bit of editing. Anyway, sorry for the wait. DS_

* * *

><p>D'rell walked quickly through the lower cavern back towards the exit into the bowl. He was lost in a deep, dark well of confusion and, surprisingly, irritation.<p>

He was irritated with Marna. Why had she made such a point of mentioning the fact he had given Tristan D'sar's old jacket? Wasn't it a positive move that he had allowed Tristan to wear it? There had been a time when, lost in the depths of his grief, he had not allowed anyone to touch anything belonging to D'sar. He hadn't dared move anything in the weyr feeling, in his grief stricken state, that if he had D'sar or Merth would somehow not recognise the place and not be able to return from between. He had spent a long time hoping they would and an even longer time accepting that they wouldn't. D'sar had died in his arms and Merth had suicided, as dragons did when their riders died.

That had been four Turns ago. Why would she show such shock and surprise when he was finally moving on? Wasn't he allowed to?

D'rell had surprised himself though, when he had handed the jacket to Tristan and not felt any pang of grief, only sadness at the memories the jacket held.

D'rell had not missed the look on Tristan's face at Marna's reaction. Shards he had felt the man's reaction. His sudden discomfort was blatantly apparent. D'rell had thought Marna more tactful than that. Tristan was going to have a hard enough time trying to accept his situation as it was without people going out of their way to make him feel uncomfortable.

B'son hadn't helped either. He loved the man dearly but he could be a stubborn, prickly son of a bitch sometimes. He'd gone out of his way to try to make Tristan feel useless. What was his problem? Did he see Tristan as a threat? To what for shard's sake? He was the one that kept trying to bring him out of the shell he had retreated back into after D'sar's death but when he did something independent B'son was suddenly dead set against it.

Shards knew what he was doing was somewhat unconventional. He gave a wry chuckle as he stepped out into the mid morning sun. Finding Tristan on that mountainside had been a bit of a shock and D'rell had not really had time to think about the impact the Starman's presence was going to have on all of their lives. Tristan was the confirmation to all those that still doubted their ancestors had come from the stars too. Tristan was also a bit of an enigma.

When D'rell had taken Areth to feed the day before he had had a little time to mull over everything that had happened since he had rescued Tristan from the snowstorm. The man was definitely a puzzle. He seemed so excited, eager and confident one moment and the next he was terrified, vulnerable and alone. Well of course he was alone, he was millions of miles from home with no way of getting back to the life he'd lost.

D'rell could relate to that, not to the millions of miles perhaps, but to the loss of everything: a life; a family; a home.

He and his family had been travelling to start a new life in the Southern Continent when a freak asteroid strike had caused a terrible tsunami that had wreaked havoc along the entire Southern coast line. Their ship had been swamped. D'rell had been fourteen and had been the only survivor. He had lost everything he'd ever known when he had been washed up on the beach of the small but prestigious Cove Hold and thrust into a life that was completely different to his small fishhold upbringing. It had eventually led him to the Weyr and impression of Areth so some good had come out of it all. He just wished it hadn't been at the expense of his parents and his sister and the rest of his extended family.

D'rell sighed as he stood in the full sunshine waiting for Areth to come down from the heights. He hadn't thought about his family in a long time and he felt guilty about it really, but he had had other things to occupy his mind.

His work at Landing for one. He had been recruited to that by D'sar who had discovered his uncanny ability with numbers whilst he'd been in the older rider's weyrling class. That had not been exactly a smooth ride, but they had eventually been inseparable when their dragons had mated. D'rell would have quite happily moved into the older man's weyr the day they'd met except he'd only been sixteen at the time and newly impressed to Areth.

There'd been other reasons to wait but D'rell did not have time to dwell on them as dust and pebbles swirling about his feet and a large shadow falling about him heralded the arrival of his "lift" as Tristan had so eloquently described the beautiful Green Dragon that was his world. He looked up, shading his eyes from the sun and from the rising dust as Areth landed with a skilful back wing,

_~D'rell. _Her tone was affectionate and full of love. He could also detect a little concern and he knew she would be worried about his mood as he had left Tristan just now, _~Tristan asked me to look after you._ She informed him matter-of-factly,

_~Did he now? _D'rell asked unable to determine how he actually felt about that.

He'd only known the man two days and he had already taken over his weyr, his bed and now, apparently, his dragon. D'rell wasn't angry with him though, Tristan was on a strange planet with strange customs and shards only knew what he thought of all the attention he was getting because of his unusual abilities that weren't really all that unusual here. From what he'd told D'rell though, he had lived with prejudice his entire life. D'rell figured the guy needed a break, and he intended to make sure he felt as welcome as possible.

He reminded himself to speak to B'son about the way he'd acted around Tristan earlier. B'son could be a little over protective. D'rell didn't hold it against him; he just wished he would calm his instincts sometimes.

He mounted Areth and they took off for the firestone heights before they joined their wing for Threadfall. He cleared his head of everything but the task ahead. He couldn't afford to be distracted during threadfall, not even by a pair of appealing green eyes and a funny sing song accent.

* * *

><p>Tristan was taken by Marna and introduced to one of the groups of healers readying for threadfall and the inevitable injuries that would present themselves. A young woman named Terla, stocky and gruff voiced, with short dark hair, had taken him happily under her wing. She was currently showing him the ropes as Tristan tried to give her his full attention. His thoughts kept wondering though, mostly to the look in D'rell's eyes as he had left without saying good bye.<p>

Areth had told him the man had suffered losses. Well he could kind of relate to that. He'd lost everything he'd ever known, although he was pretty sure everything he'd ever known was still out there alive and well. There was just no way in hell he was ever going to get back there.

Tristan examined his thoughts on that subject and he had to conclude that even after two days he felt more at home here than he had anywhere, ever,

"Hey, Tristan, are you listening to me?" Terla pinched him in the side, making him yelp. She regarded him with flashing dark eyes, hands on her hips and a flick of her hair.

He grinned at her and apologised for his inattention, she was a feisty one but as he looked around him all the healers seemed to have spirit and strength of character. Terla was currently showing him some of the ointments and herbs they would be using in treating thread score, which, he was led to understand, looked like someone had drawn a white hot poker across the skin to melt it. He had no idea what the hell a white hot poker was, but from the intense emotion that filtered through his psych stone he reckoned it was pretty bad,

"This is numbweed." Terla was showing him a large ceramic pot full of an acrid smelling slightly greenish ointment, "As the name suggests it numbs pain. Anything that's open, bleeding, bruised or oozing insides needs to be smothered with this," Tristan shuddered at the candid description of wounds he was likely to come across. He felt a little green around the edges at her graphic explanations, "Of course you have to clean the area first to make sure there's no thread left in the wound. The dead stuff can cause an infection, and if they're unlucky enough to have a live one eating away inside there then better to get it out quick before they're eaten inside out."

Tristan felt faint, and wanted desperately to go away somewhere and vomit. He'd dealt with wounds before, some horrible stuff when he'd been stuck working shifts in a Triage centre in the middle of a warzone on some dingy backstreet planet somewhere a lifetime ago. He'd never dealt with stuff that could eat you alive from the inside out though, even if he did suspect the girl was exaggerating. He didn't dare turn down his psych stone to find out if her explanations were embellished or not.

"Clean the wound with water," Terla continued, "Water can kill the live thread too if you use enough, although most of it freezes in_ between._" Terla continued to explain to him, showing him a few different devices for flushing water over wounds,

"What does it look like, this Thread I'll be cleanin', anyway?" Tristan asked, deciding that no question was a stupid one since he knew nothing of this organism except it destroyed anything organic in its path,

"It turns to black dust when it's frozen. If it isn't frozen it will wiggle." Tristan gave an involuntary shudder and was relieved to see he wasn't the only one in their group that reacted that way, "If it wiggles pour as much water on it as you can because in the hope it will drown. The only other way to kill it is by fire or Agenothree although neither of these is too good for your patient." There was a ripple of laughter from the group but Tristan had been in enough situations like this to recognise that this time humour was being used to disguise true feelings.

Tristan felt bombarded with information and not just from Terla's explanations but from everything he'd been told about this planet the day before as well. His head was buzzing, but he forced himself to focus. This was no different to any other emergency situation. He would think about the other stuff later, right now hoards of riders and their incredible dragons were about to defend their planet and they needed all the help they could get, no matter how small.

Terla's briefing finished and she led Tristan to some tables where trays of food had been set,

"Marna says you are trained as a medic." Terla stated as everyone at the table tucked into some meat rolls, bread and cheese. Tristan couldn't help giving a sigh of satisfaction as he bit into his umpteenth fresh bread roll since rising that morning,

"Yeah," he said with a full mouth, "I trained initially as a medic then went into counselling so I could get jobs on transports and cruisers." He realised his answer might not be understood but he saw Terla nod and several others listen with interest,

"So you've travelled about a bit?" she asked, not seeming phased at all that he was describing travelling in space. She gazed up at the ceiling of the cavern, "I've often wondered what it would be like." She said wistfully, "I've studied the stars and the planets, we all have to as part of our training for candidacy."

"Candidacy?" Tristan asked frowning, "For what?"

"For impression, Tristan." A young man told him, "Most of us," the lad gestured about the table, "are here because we were or are to be presented as candidates to impress dragons. Some already have been and weren't successful. If we wish to stay in the Weyr beyond unsuccessful impression then we have to make ourselves useful and carry on training in some sort of skill." He waved his hand about the small group, "We all chose to be healers."

"Is stayin' in the Weyr better than goin' back where you came from?" Tristan asked, curious to know what life was like elsewhere when it seemed so accepting and informal here. Almost all the young people there agreed that life in the Weyr was far easier than their life in Hold and Craft and far more permissive. Tristan decided to leave that explanation to his own imagination,

"So, you met any people that weren't human on your travels, then?" Terla asked and Tristan watched her and the others carefully as he answered,

"Yes I have, a great many different races and species." He told them all and every single one of the young people at the table leaned closer to hear better, "I seen some sights too. I once visited a planet that was completely covered in ice. The inhabitants lived in caves like these but carved outta ice instead o' rock: whole cities." He smiled at the interested eager faces urging him to tell them more,

"You are going to be a big hit around the main hearth in the evening once everyone has had enough of singing." Terla and several others laughed, "You'll have to tell us more."

"I'd be happy to." Tristan agreed gleefully, happy to have found such a captive audience.

A dragon's bugle caught everyone's attention and Tristan's ears were suddenly inundated with noise. He looked to Terla in shock and she smiled as she pushed herself away from the table. She grasped Tristan's hand and pulled him along with the crowd as they all piled towards an exit tunnel,

"Come on, Starman." She called, "Let's show you something I can guarantee you won't have seen anywhere else in the known Universe."

Tristan found himself being pulled along a different tunnel to the one he and D'rell had entered at breakfast. They emerged onto a large open area, cleared of vegetation just like every other outside space immediately surrounding the Weyr. Terla had not been wrong when she'd told Tristan he would see something spectacular as he looked now on row upon row of dragons of every hue. The noise was immense and he put his hands to his ears as the entire Weyr's compliment of Dragons bugled their readiness to fly.

Terla laughed, shouting above the noise,

"Amazing isn't it?" she asked, Tristan could only nod, "This is a reason to stay here, even without everything else Weyr life gives us."

Tristan found himself scanning the crowds of Dragons looking for one in particular. He didn't think he'd have a hope in hell's chance of seeing D'rell, though, since the massed dragons were some distance from where he and the others were standing.

Tentatively he pushed through the protective barrier created by the psych stone to send out a searching thought for Areth. The action needed concentration, since it needed to be a narrow band to search for one mind among so many. If he was not careful the shielding would break and he knew he would be hard pushed to re establish it among so many telepathic minds,

_~I am here, Tris. _He sighed with relief as he heard her voice and felt the calming, reassuring touch of her mind. He smiled at the shortening of his name, _We are ready to fight thread. D'rell and I fly together._

_~Is he in a better mood now, honey? _He asked with concern,_ ~He was kinda sad when he left me. _ Tristan had felt a little responsible for D'rell's sadness,

_~He feels much better. We are together. He has lost a lot in his life, but he still has me._

_~I'm sure he knows he's a lucky guy._

_~I know I am a lucky dragon. I go now. D'rell says you must not work too hard._

_~He could've told me that himself, but tell him not to worry, babe. I'll stop when I'm tired. Good luck to you both._

With that Tristan felt the connection go silent, although the sensation of Areth's mind and D'rell's, stayed with him. That was a surprise to him, since that almost never happened. It was as if they were holding onto him, reluctant to let go. He felt a very strong sense of protectiveness directed towards him from both Areth and D'rell that he had never felt from anyone else ever, apart from his mother, many years before, when he'd been a small child. The sensation was not unpleasant, but it was disconcerting.

He didn't have time to think about any of it though because, with a single bugle from the lead Bronze Dragon the entire massed wings lifted from the ground sending dust swirling. The blasts of air from all the Dragons' powerful wings almost knocked Tristan off his feet. This was not the most spectacular sight though, since they saved the best until last. Without any warning the whole lot disappeared _between,_

"Holy shit." Tristan exclaimed, bringing gasps from those around him.

Terla pulled him up, laughing, and led him from the edge of the take off area,

"Time to get to work Tristan." She told him.

Tristan stood and dusted himself down then followed her and the others to the tents set up for triage and treatment of wounds. There wasn't much time, after that, for anything except quick action and instinct as the first injuries came in.

Six hours later D'rell and the rest of his wing returned to the Weyr, weary and battle soiled.

D'rell would normally have Areth fly him straight to his weyr high up the cliff on the inside of the ancient volcano bowl after she had bathed in the lake; today though he had another priority.

Despite having focused his thoughts on the task of fighting thread he had been unable to completely block every thought of Tristan out of his head. Areth had relayed Tristan's final message of good luck to him but she needn't have because he had heard it quite clearly himself. The mystery of Tristan grew deeper by the hour. He had told him that in order to speak to someone telepathically he needed to be in physical contact. How then could D'rell hear him half way across the training grounds? And with Tristan's so called psych stone turned to full?

He was also full of concern, since, as soon as they had landed he'd asked Areth to find the man. She'd found him easily but had informed D'rell that he was asleep. When she told her rider where Tristan was sleeping however he had cursed and quickened his pace.

Dammit, the last thing he'd said was that he would rest when he was tired,

_~Sleeping is resting. _Areth announced in confusion,

_~Yes love, but he's not sleeping where he should be, in our weyr, he's in the sharding infirmary. What the shell happened?_

_~I have asked Cerith and she says he is not hurt, just very tired._

D'rell strode across the training grounds and entered the caves via the infirmary entrance. The place was, as he would have expected, bustling and full. There had been no serious injuries, and thankfully no deaths this fall, but there had been a great deal of scoring and at least a dozen dragons and riders would be out of action for a few weeks.

The percentage was average. D'rell found himself calculating it all in his head, his quick, mathematic brain remembering and comparing the numbers against other falls that Turn. He made a note to write down the statistics when he had found Tristan.

_~B'son says he is up against the far wall, snoring. _Areth told her rider, _~He says if you don't get him to move soon he will pour a bucket of water over the man and get him to move himself, apparently he is making the place look untidy. _Areth sounded surprised by the phrase and D'rell chuckled, in spite of B'son's obvious irritation. Dragon's always took things so literally.

D'rell arrived at the far wall, nodding amiably at those he passed. He scanned along the length and located the blond curls of Tristan's lowered head. The man was leaning against the wall between two wooden stretchers. His knees were tucked under his chin. His arms rested on his bent knees and his head rested there. Someone had been kind enough to place a blanket around him as he slept, but no one had thought to move him to a bed,

"We didn't have any spare beds." B'son explained as he approached, as if to pre-empt D'rell's question,

"Even lying him down would have been marginally better than letting him sleep like that, B'son." D'rell complained. B'son pursed his lips and held a slate out to a young woman at his side having just checked some recordings on it,

"Look, D'rell, he's lucky someone had the time to give him a blanket." The rider ran his fingers through his hair. D'rell noted he still had smudges of black dust on his cheeks, "He wanted to help and be useful and that means no special treatment."

"Shard it, B'son, I don't know what your problem is, but we should think ourselves lucky he wanted to help. He's been here two days and been through hell. Making him feel welcome should be our priority, but you're going out of your way to make him feel sharding useless."

"If he can't stand the heat he should stay out of the kitchen." B'son snipped, "No one would have thought any less of him if he'd opted to stay in your weyr, but noooo, he had to prove he could be of use." B'son clicked his tongue against his teeth, "If he makes himself ill I will be very unhappy." D'rell whirled on the older rider, feeling very unhappy himself,

"Have you given any thought to the fact that he probably would have rested if he hadn't felt he had to prove himself useful because one particular prissy bastard of a green rider was in a bad mood this morning?" D'rell hissed.

He left B'son spluttering and angry faced and slowly approached the sleeping Tristan. He did not look at all comfortable, and considering his muscles were still recovering from sleeping for many Turns in a cryogenic pod, sleeping in this awkward position was probably not very good for him. D'rell knelt down at the blond man's side and touched his arm gently,

"Tristan." He said softly, not wanting to shock him, "Tristan, Areth and I can take you up to the weyr, you'll be more comfortable there." Tristan did not stir and D'rell could hear his light snoring. The man really was in a deep sleep.

D'rell sat back on his heals. He could try to carry the man by himself, he was slim but he was tall too. He didn't feel he could ask anyone to help him though since everyone was busy, rushed off their feet with thread scored riders and Dragons.

He looked Tristan over, determining how best to pick the guy up when he saw a glint of turquoise peeping out from beneath the man's cuff: the psych stone. D'rell remembered when he had touched it the day before, it had opened a link between their minds. Would that wake Tristan up? He tentatively reached out and placed the tip of his index finger to the tip of the stone.

Immediately Tristan's head shot up. His arms flailed outwards, knocking D'rell backwards. The rider fell onto his backside with a cry. Tristan moved quickly, fully awake in less than a second, his body whirled into a crouching defensive position in one fluid movement that shocked D'rell, making him gasp and scrabble back to give the man some space.

Tristan looked about him with wide, frightened green eyes, his breath came in short, sharp gasps and D'rell could feel his shock, surprise and fear,

"Whoa, there, Tristan, it's me, D'rell." The rider held out his hands in reassurance, "Shards, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shock you?" he said quickly, trying to calm himself and block out Tristan's emotions. He swallowed a lump in his throat as his mind was cast back to a time when he might have woken like that if someone had taken him by surprise.

Tristan's eyes clouded over, and his brow furrowed in confusion at his abrupt wake up call,

"W-what the hell did you do?" he asked D'rell in a slightly high pitched voice,

"I-I was trying to wake you, because you didn't look very comfortable there frankly, and Areth and I are going up to the weyr and thought you might appreciate a lift." D'rell said quickly, shaken by Tristan's extreme reaction.

The tall blonde's body seemed to relax slightly and he propped himself up on all fours, rubbing sleep from his eyes and groaning,

"Do me a favour, D'rell." He said slowly, "Don' ever wake me up like that again."

"I'm sorry, it's just, I…shards, Tristan I'm sorry." He was suddenly embarrassed and full of remorse for causing any distress. Tristan knelt up and smiled a weary half smile,

"It's okay, I'm okay, you just took me by surprise that's all." He frowned down at his psych stone, "You touched this?" he asked and D'rell nodded,

"I remembered it had opened a link yesterday, I'd tried to wake you but you were dead to the world. I just thought it might be quicker." Tristan chuckled,

"It sure was quicker, shit, you scared me half to death with all those images at once." D'rell frowned, "Next time a simple shake on the shoulders would be better." D'rell stood and held out a hand to pull Tristan to his feet,

"What do you mean all those images at once?" he asked as Tristan stood and smoothed the creases out of his trousers and tunic. The taller man threaded his fingers through his messy curls and opened and closed his mouth in an attempt to moisten it,

"When you touched the stone it did open up a link, but because I was asleep I wasn't controlling how much it opened." Tristan explained, "You just showed me everything you and Areth did since the last time I saw you, except you gave me it all in less than a second." D'rell regarded Tristan with an open mouth and wide, incredulous eyes,

"Shards." He exclaimed, a twinkle in his blue eyes, "That'll be the after dinner thread stories spoiled then." Tristan just stared back at him before laughing out loud,

"Oh my God, I fuckin' love this place." He exclaimed happily, "Are you tellin' me that doesn't completely freak you out, what I just told you?" D'rell shook his head and gave Tristan a wide grin,

"Why should it, Tristan?" He asked, "After everything I've learned about you so far I very much doubt anything else you tell me will surprise me."

"Don't count on it." Tristan murmured under his breath before smiling broadly at D'rell, flashing some perfect white teeth, "Now did you say something about a lift?" D'rell nodded, ignoring Tristan's murmured statement, although not forgetting it,

"Areth has been bathed, but I am still filthy, so she has offered to take us both up to our weyr to get a bath and a change of clothes."

"Bath sounds good." Tristan agreed, "But I don't have any other clothes."

"Don't worry." D'rell assured him, "I'm sure Marna will have found someone to deliver some clothes for you, and if not you can borrow some more of mine. We have a celebration to go to tonight remember?" Tristan did remember,

"I'm lookin' forward to it, bud." He said with a grin,

"Come on then." D'rell led him out of the infirmary and away from B'son's angry glare because of the disturbance they had caused.

D'rell felt a little guilty that he might have disturbed some of the injured riders but not guilty because he'd disturbed B'son. He was still angry with the blond rider for being so unwelcoming of Tristan. He only hoped he wasn't so prickly that evening. Tristan deserved to be shown some proper Pern hospitality, and there was nowhere on Pern more hospitable than Benden Weyr.


End file.
